Galion the Grey
by Rancho Relaxo
Summary: An Origin story for a Dalish Mage Warden. Galion is an apprentice alongside Merrill, who is recruited as a Warden. Updated January, 2012 with revisions to all chapters.  No, I'm not dead!
1. The Grey Light of Dawn

_A/N: The beginning of the tale of Galion, a Dalish elf apprenticed to his clan's keeper, a developing mage and eventual Grey Warden._

-ooOOoo-

_**Chapter 1**_

_**The Grey light of Dawn **_

-ooOOoo-

Galion sat beside the aravel with a scroll on his lap. He had been working on a transcription of an elven calendar for one of the other Dalish clans. The Keeper recognised his aptitude for the written arts and encouraged him to perform these sort of tasks. Although Merrill was still the Keepers' second, Galion was developing into a powerful mage in his own right. He did not share the Keepers' confidence, as he knew that his spellcraft desperately needed rounding out. His repertoire, while limited, was powerful enough that the Keeper kept him busy honing those spells while not leaving time to broaden his skills.

He sighed and looked back down to his scroll. This should be finished shortly, then he would go and find Merrill and maybe they could sneak off somewhere for lunch. He bent back to his work, carefully blocking in the last couple of dates on the page.

A shadow fell across him and he looked up to see Tamlen, one of the hunters, panting to catch his breath.

"Tamlen? What's the matter?" he asked.

"Galion" gasped Tamlen, sucking in lungfuls of air "it's Lyna. She's fallen off the edge of a path in the forest. I think her leg's broken, and she's passed out!" he gasped.

"How far is she? When did this happen?" asked Galion, putting the scroll on the ground and standing up.

"About half an hour ago, I can show you where. Can you come help me?"

"Of course I can, Tamlen. We should get Merrill and some rope" he thought out loud.

Galion picked up the scroll and put it in the aravel nearby. He and Tamlen found a good length of rope, and they found Merrill over by the halla pen with the Keeper.

Tamlen quickly filled Galion, Merrill and the Keeper in on what had happened.

Tamlen and Lyna had been out hunting when they found three humans. They claimed to have found a cave with treasure in it. They were looking for treasure when they were scared off by something which they descibed as a monster. Tamlen and Lyna let the humans leave, and found their way down to the cave. They were coming back to see the Keeper when Lyna slipped and fell down the unfamiliar path. Before she fainted, Tamlen told her he was going for help.

-oo-

The Keeper looked at the younger elves and said "bring her back to us. Tamlen, if Lyna is not badly hurt then you will lead Galion down to the ruins and have him look for anything useful there".

Tamlen nodded and looked at Galion, who said "we should hurry, then".

The three elves rapidly made their way into the forest, Tamlen leading the way. After about half an hour they came to the place where Lyna had gone over the edge. Tamlen carefully peeked over the edge and he shook his head. "Lyna!" he yelled. There was no response.

Galion looped the rope around a sturdy looking tree and flung the coils over the edge.

"I'll go first" said Tamlen.

"No" said Galion, passing his staff to Merrill. "If her leg is broken then it is better to heal it down there".

Tamlen nodded in understanding.

Galion clambered down the rope while Merrill and Tamlen steadied it for him. When he reached the bottom he was able to see the extent of Lyna's injuries. She had indeed broken her leg, and she had quite a few scrapes and bruises from her fall. Most worrying for Galion was the egg sized lump on her forehead. He knelt down beside her and carefully placed his hands beside her head, gingerly feeling for a wound. Satisfied, he cast a healing spell on her head and watched the lump shrink and dissappear. He moved down to her leg and made a tsk, tsk sound. Her left leg was sitting at a crazy angle to the rest of her body, but only below the knee. "Hmm" he thought "dislocated ankle as well as broken leg. Marvellous".

He passed a hand over her broken leg and knitted the bones back together. He cast a second time to reduce internal bleeding around the break. Muttering a brief prayer, he pulled the leg straight and with a practiced action, slid the ankle back to where it should be with a satisfying crunch. He cast another healing spell over the ankle to reduce the swelling and help the tendons to get themselves back in the right place.

Galion looked up to see Tamlen just visible over the edge of the road. He bent back down to Lyna and unclipped his water skin. He knelt beside Lyna and propped her up. Gently he slapped the back of her hand to wake her. After a few slaps her eyes shot open and her hazel eyes were staring at Galion's light green eyes.

"Galion?" she said "what are you doing here? We were coming back to the camp and... and"

"You fell" said Galion. "Look up there" he said, pointing at the rope.

Lyna followed the direction he was indicating and saw Tamlen waving frantically. She grinned and waved back. "What happened?" she asked.

"You broke your leg, few cuts and scrapes, concussion. You were out cold for probably an hour, Tamlen says. Here, drink some water" said Galion.

"Ma serannas, Galion" said Lyna.

"You're going to be tired for the next couple of days, Lyna, and hungry too" said Galion. "Let's see if you can stand, I'll help you".

Galion stood and grabbed both of Lyna's hands, carefully pulling her up to her feet. He backed away, but remained holding her hands. "How does it feel?" he asked.

Lyna tested her legs. Crouched. Stomped both feet. Jumped. "You're an amazing healer, Galion!" she grinned, sweeping the bemused mage into a friendly hug. Galion smiled and patted Lyna on the back, returning the hug.

"Nice though this is, we should get back up to the road" he said, breaking the embrace. "You go first. Be careful, I don't want you to fall and I have to fix you again" he said with a grin.

Lyna smiled and grabbed onto the rope, and with practiced ease, hoisted herself up the cliff in a very short time. Galion picked up his water skin and took a swig before climbing back up to the road.

Tamlen grabbed him as he approached the top and hoisted him over the edge. He was grinning from ear to ear, and clapped Galion on the back. Merrill took one of Galions' hands and looked at the palm, rubbing it with her thumbs, then hugged Galion.

"Wow, a lot of attention! Lyna, you should fall off cliffs more often, I could get to like this" said Galion, putting an arm around Merrill's shoulders. Lyna picked up Galion's staff and handed it to him.

"We should decide what to do, Galion" said Merrill.

"Tamlen and I should have a quick look in these ruins, I suppose. Lyna, you should probably go back with Merrill to the camp. You're alright now but those spells I cast will kick in soon and you will be exhausted."

"I wanted to have a look at these ruins myself, Galion" said Merrill.

"It will have to be another time, lethallin" said Galion, giving Merrill a peck on the cheek as he moved over towards Tamlen, who had wound up the rope and slung the coils over his shoulder.

Merrill nodded, moving towards the red headed Lyna. The two groups went their separate ways.

-oo-

Tamlen and Galion made their way down to the cave and looked inside. They looked at each other and Galion shrugged. "Let's take a look" he said.

As they made their way into the cave, they noticed that there appeared to be a structure ahead, but it was difficult to see with all the broken rocks and dust. Galion stopped and cast a short spell and the end of his staff burst with a white light.

"That's useful. How long will that last?" asked Tamlen.

"As long as I need it to" said Galion.

They found a hole further in which was made in a stone wall. This structure must have been very old, for it to be buried like this. As they clambered through the hole and dropped down to the floor, they saw there were a few directions they could take.

"If we tie the rope off here, we can use it like a trail marker in case we get lost" suggested Galion.

"Good idea, lethallan. We'll head this way. I suppose all directions are equally unknown" said Tamlen.

After a short time the elves came across thick cobwebs. Tamlen drew his sword and Galion was on his guard. They heard the sqealing of a cluster of spiders before they saw them. Tamlen skewered the first one, while Galion cast a spell which caused roots to emerge from the ground and snare the nasty arachnids. Concentrating on one spider, Galion cast a white hot beam of light across his target, which sliced through spider flesh, leaving an acrid smoke and foul stench behind. Tamlen moved to a trapped spider and lopped off some legs before slicing open the abdomen, jumping gracefully to avoid being washed in yellow goo. Tamlen stabbed through the head of the disabled spider, while Galion used another spell to cause the roots below the last spider to wrap around it, quickly crushing it into paste.

Galion looked at Tamlen and shrugged. "Let's keep going" he said.

Tamlen led the way, unwinding the rope coils as they went. As they rounded a corner, they saw statues lining a hall. Some looked like elven prayer markers, and others were of human style. "Maybe these are Tevinter statues? How odd that they're side by side with elven ones" said Galion. As they ventured further along, they came to an alcove where an ornate door led off from the hallway they had followed. Tamlen stopped Galion with a hand on his chest. He pointed to a plate on the ground, almost undetectable at a casual glance. Making his way to the edge of the plate, he found some bits of gravel and twigs and rammed them underneath, blocking the plate. Having disarmed the trap, he found a lever that opened the ornate door.

-oo-

The two elves entered the chamber and saw a hideous beastie. It looked like a cross between a sea urchin and a grizzly bear that had been rolled in rotting meat. Tamlen drew his sword and Galion readied a spell as the creature charged towards them. Galion tried to tangle the creature with some roots but the spell fizzled out. Tamlen struck it across the snout, which temporarily stunned it, giving him time to line up a shot which hobbled one of its' front legs. Enraged, the creature let out a roar which knocked Tamlen over. Galion cast his beam of light but he could not get a good shot for fear of hitting Tamlen. However he was able to slice off a pillow sized lump of flank, which crippled the creature still further. Galion kicked it in the arse to draw its' attention away from Tamlen. The creature turned around and lumbered towards the mage, as Tamlen scrambled to his feet and recovered his sword. Galion backpedalled away from the weakening creature, allowing Tamlen to aim a slice towards the backbone, cutting deep but hitting the spine and not going through. His sword was now embedded in the creature, which bucked and kicked backwards, knocking Tamlen back down. The creature span and rose up on it's back legs, preparing to squish Tamlen. As he watched, horrified, a cracking sound could be heard and he felt the ground move. Mighty roots pushed up through the stone and wrapped around the creature, pinning it in an upright position. It flailed about but could not break free. Galion darted around the creature and helped Tamlen up. He helped him over to cover behind a slab of stone, then cast a healing spell on the creature. The result was a spectacular explosion of gore, as shards of bone crystallised outwards, piercing the flesh in thousands of different locations.

"What was that!" said Tamlen.

"That was me casting a bone healing spell for a mouse onto that thing. The bones try to grow into a mouse shape, they crack and splinter and well you can see what happens next" said Galion. "What I want to know is what it is. I've never seen anything like it."

"It looks a bit like a bear, but diseased and spiky" said Tamlen. He walked over and pulled his sword free.

The elves looked through the room and found there was only one door leading further into the building. Opening the door they saw a raised stone dais that had a large silver edged mirror on it. The mirror was ornate and undamaged, despite the disrepair of the surrounding rooms.

Galion felt a dreadful sense of misery and pain emanating from the mirror, like ripples in a pond. Tamlen took a few steps in, to get a better look.

"I don't think you should mess with that mirror, Tamlen. Can't you feel the evil coming from it?" asked Galion.

"I'll be quick, Galion. I just want a look" he replied. "Can you translate the writing around the edge?"

"Its' not elvish, Tamlen. I can't. I'm also not going near that thing. Ugh, it's making me feel sick!" replied Galion.

"Hey! Something's in there! I just saw something moving in there!" said Tamlen.

"It's a mirror, Tamlen, it's just your reflection or the light from my staff" said Galion.

"No, there's something there... look, there it is again! Can you feel that? I think it saw me!" said Tamlen.

An almighty sucking noise and a stink of sulphur emanated from the mirror, followed by a burst of light and a concussion blast, knocking Galion onto his bum in the doorway. Tamlen was nowhere to be seen. Galion felt as if his insides were rotting away, or as if he had just drunk some acid. He felt consciousness slipping away and with a last mighty effort he cast a heal spell on himself, in an effort to at least slow whatever was happening to him down.

-oo-

After an unknown length of time, Galion woke up to see a bearded human hovering over his face. The human spoke "I'm very sorry."

"The mirror. Tamlen in the mirror" said Galion.

"Who is Tamlen, a friend of yours?" asked the human.

"Yes - in the mirror - follow our rope trail, end of the rope in a room..." and with that Galion surrendered to unconsciousness.

-oo-

Lyna was dozing under a tree while Merrill was sitting beside her, looking towards the path that led down into the forest. They noticed Fenarel coming along the path towards them with a human alongside. Between the two of them, unconscious, was Galion. Merrill leapt up, bumping Lyna and waking her up. Merrill ran towards Fenarel and the human, worry crossing her face as she looked at the unconscious mage. She felt his neck for a pulse. His skin was hot and flushed. "We'll need to take him to the Keeper" she said.

Fenarel grunted and together with the human they carried Galion to the Keeper's aravel and laid him on a cot.

The elderly keeper fired off quick questions. "What has happened? Fenarel, who is this human? What happened to Galion?"

Fenarel answered "I was guarding the path and Duncan here came from further in the forest, carrying Galion. Duncan is a Grey Warden. He can probably explain the rest better than I can".

Duncan looked at the Keeper and gave her a bow. "I am Duncan of the Grey Wardens. I happened across your clansman here while I was looking in a ruins for a tainted artefact. He was able to tell me where it was, and I have destroyed it. Unfortunately the taint within the artefact must have been released by someone and it has infected your friend here."

The Keeper frowned at Duncan "how did you come to be looking for this artefact?"

"As a warden I am able to sense the taint, and I noticed it in this area a few days ago. It is similar to smelling a distant campfire on a still day. You can't see it, but you know it's there."

The Keeper seemed to consider this for a moment before saying "there will be time for questions later. Merrill, you will help me here. Fenarel and Lyna, see that the Grey Warden is looked after."

Fenarel and Lyna stepped back from the aravel, allowing Duncan to climb down.

"Duncan, I must ask that you remain with us while I tend to Galion. I will need to speak to you after" said the Keeper.

"As you wish" replied Duncan.

-oo-

As sunset approached, Merrill emerged from the aravel, looking tired and drawn out. She found Fenarel and Lyna sitting with Duncan by a crackling fire. Lyna looked up as she approached. "How is he?" she asked.

"He's responding to the magic, but this taint has a strong grip on him. We're lucky that you found him when you did, Duncan" said Merrill, nodding towards the Warden.

"He must be strong indeed. Your friends were telling me he has training as a mage?" said Duncan.

"Yes, he's an apprentice as I am" said Merrill.

"I believe that he was able to heal himself as the taint took hold, which gave him a few hours grace" stated Duncan. "Is the keeper ready to see me?" he asked.

"I believe so. Take some hot water with you, the Keeper asked for it" said Merrill.

Duncan retrieved a pan of hot water from beside the fire, while Merrill helped herself to some soup and sat down near Fenarel to eat. Duncan entered the aravel with the water for the Keeper.

"How is he really?" asked Fenarel.

"It's bad. It is like he has a fever except there is no response from our normal healing spells. The Keeper is going to try to give him Lyrium when he wakes, because he may be able to cure himself" whispered Merrill. She looked despondently at her soup, pushing the contents around with her spoon.

Lyna put her hand on her friend's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Merrill looked up and saw the black marks under her eyes. "You should get some rest, Lyna. He'll be alright in the morning, you'll see" said Merrill.

"I can't help but think about Tamlen. I mean if Galion is sick with this taint, then Tamlen must be in poorer shape" said Lyna.

"Duncan looked around and didn't find anyone else. Poor Tamlen is gone" said Fenarel.

"Tomorrow we should go back and have another look, Fenarel" said Lyna, getting up and stretching. She walked off to the aravel she shared with Merrill and Maren, the halla keeper.

Fenarel watched as Merrill ate her soup, occasionally tossing another stick on the fire. Every so often he would look towards the aravel where his friend was being cared for. Merrill finished her soup and stood up, then went to clean up her bowl nearby. She walked back to Fenarel and said "I'm going to get some sleep. Did you have a place for Duncan?"

"He has set a tent up over there" said Fenarel, gesturing over his shoulder. "I'll wait a bit longer. Sleep well" said Fenarel.

-oo-

The following morning Merrill woke early and slipped out of the aravel quietly. She took a deep breath of the crisp morning air, then made her way down to the stream to have a quick wash. After her morning ablutions she made her way back up to the Keepers' aravel. She gently tapped the door, and the Keeper said "come in".

Inside Merrill found that Galion was still lying on the cot, but he was sleeping now rather than unconscious. His skin had returned to its normal shade. She put her hand just above his forehead and noticed that the fever from the previous day seemed to have abated. The Keeper looked at Merrill and quietly said "he is resting now. Not long after Duncan came in last night, he woke up. We were able to give him some Lyrium and he was able to heal himself. He slept after that and his fever broke a couple of hours later".

"Is he cured then?" asked Merrill.

"I'm afraid not. If what Duncan says is correct - and I believe him, by the way - then Galion has become infected with the darkspawn taint. His cure relies on him becoming a Grey Warden. Once he is awake, I am afraid that he will have to leave us, to travel with Duncan to recieve the cure".

Merrill looked down at her friend with sadness. "Will he ever come back?" she asked.

"I don't know, da'len. I don't know" replied the Keeper.

While Merrill fetched some food for herself and the Keeper, Galion rested. Gradually he woke up, his eyelids fluttering open. He sat up and looked at Merrill and the Keeper, sitting close by, watching him. "Ugh. Thirsty" he said.

Merrill grinned and handed him a cup with thin warm soup in it. Galion took it and slowly drained the cup.

"It's good to see you well again, lethallin" said Merrill.

"Thanks Merrill. I feel like I've been chewed up and spat out though" he replied.

"What happened to Tamlen? I remember a human and a bear thing. A mirror in the ruins too" he mumbled.

The Keeper stood up and said "Galion, the human was a Grey Warden. He rescued you and he destroyed the mirror which infected you. We haven't found Tamlen, and according to the Grey Warden, we are not likely to. I fear we must assume the worst."

The Keeper stepped beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Rest some more. Merrill can stay with you" she said. The Keeper stepped out of the aravel and left her two apprentices alone.

Galion motioned for Merrill to come and sit on the bed, and then held her in a comfortable hug. Merrill sighed and closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his body close to her own.

Galion whispered "how long was I out?"

Merrill replied quietly "only half a day. You had me worried, you know!"

Galion smiled, pulling back from the embrace to look at Merrill. "I'm sorry Merrill. If I had have known this would have happened, then I wouldn't have gone until all four of us were ready."

"But then there could have been four of us sick or lost instead of two. Poor Tamlen. The Grey Warden says he's gone" said Merrill sadly.

Galion gently stroked her cheek, tracing the filigree of her tattoo. Merrill looked up at Galion, whose vallaslin matched the Keepers own design. His light green eyes were bright, contrasting with his cornsilk blonde hair. She leaned forward and gently brushed her lips against Galions', then drew him into a kiss, two friends trying to blot out a painful memory.

-oo-

A couple of hours later, Galion and Merrill emerged from the Keeper's aravel. Duncan was close by, and when he saw the mage, he immediately made his way over, looking the elf up and down.

"It's good to see you up and about so soon, friend" said Duncan. "Your survival against the taint is partially due to your magical ability, I am led to understand."

"Thank you for rescuing me, Grey Warden. It is a shame that you were not able to find a trace of Tamlen" replied Galion.

"I did look before I returned to you, after destroying that mirror. If I had left you much longer, then I fear that your clan would have been preparing a second funeral today. It is a sad thing that has happened, but do not let it cause you to regret being alive" he replied.

The Keeper walked over to join the conversation. "Galion, we must speak of your cure."

"Yes, Keeper. I can still feel the sickness inside me. It is like when you have eaten an unripe apple that makes your stomach knot, except it comes and goes" replied Galion.

"The cure for your ailment involves joining the Grey Wardens" said Duncan simply.

"You'd do that just to save my life? I would not join out of charity" said Galion.

"You mistake me. I wouldn't make the offer unless I thought you would make a good Grey Warden. You are a skilled mage, and a Dalish as well. The Dalish Grey Wardens have always served with distinction."

Galion looked up at the human with a questioning gaze.

"The last Grey Warden to slay an archdemon, Garahel, was a Dalish" said Duncan.

Galion asked "what is the cure? Is it magical, or does it involve other Grey Wardens?"

"The cure involves a ritual, and yes some magic is involved. Believe me when I say if I had the cure here I would give it to you immediately. As it is, we will have to travel some distance to a place called Ostagar. There I have some other recruits, as well as some of the ingredients needed to make the cure" said Duncan.

"Ostagar" replied Galion.

"Yes."

Galion paused for a moment, before asking the Keeper "what of the clan, Keeper?"

"We will be leaving da'len. We head north, away from these darkspawn. In time we may meet again, but for now our paths divide and you must go with Duncan, or else die from this taint - which has already taken Tamlen. Please don't let his sacrifice be for nothing" said the Keeper.

Galion took a deep breath and said "very well Duncan. I would be honoured to accept a place in the Grey Wardens".

"Then we should leave as soon as you are ready" he replied, with a small smile.


	2. Onward to Ostagar

_A/N: This piece covers the events in Ostagar, where Galion meets the former templar Alistair and the witch Morrigan._

-ooOOoo-

_**Chapter 2**_

_**Onward to Ostagar **_

-ooOOoo-

Duncan and Galion looked down towards the valley where the towers of the ruined fortress of Ostagar lay. The pair had been on a fast march for nearly four days, making good time. This had surprised Duncan, who had half expected the mage to be unable to travel with haste, seeing as the taint was increasing its hold on him. Duncan had seen Galion casting healing spells on himself and felt badly for the elf, who still had the joining ritual to complete before he could harness the taint within him.

Galion whistled, clearly impressed. "It's huge!" he gestured. "It must have been something to see before it was abandoned" he added.

"Indeed. One can imagine the size and grandeur even amongst these ruins" said Duncan.

Duncan motioned for Galion to follow him down to a high stone bridge, which led to the main army camp. As they approached, a small squad of soldiers led by a man in impressive gold armour moved forwards to greet them. The man in gold armour introduced himself as King Cailan, and seemed to be on familiar terms with Duncan. After a brief chat and swapping introductions with Galion, the King took his leave to plan for the upcoming battle.

"You know I thought he would be a king before he even said anything" said Galion.

"Oh? Was it his armour that gave it away?" asked Duncan.

"Sort of, yes. And he didn't have shit all over him" said Galion, matter-of-factly.

"That is true. I'm surprised you haven't said anything yet about the soldier at the back with two halves of a coconut" added Duncan.

Galion cleared his throat and said "right. Well, we're here at Ostagar, what do you need me to do for the cure?"

"The cure will come from a ritual which we call the Joining. There's two other recruits apart from yourself who will be going through the Joining with you. You will need to find a Grey Warden in the camp named Alistair. He will be helping you and the other recruits before the Joining. After you have found him, come and find me at the Grey Warden camp near the King's tent". With that, Duncan led the way across the bridge, and Galion wandered along behind, soaking in the sights with wide eyes.

-oo-

Galion passed through the arch that led into the main camp area. He could see the royal tent, alongside the Grey Warden pavilion. On his right there was a scaffold where a priestess was giving some kind of sermon to a small crowd of soldiers and knights. Further in he could see the kennels. Being fairly interested in the Mabari that Fereldens held so dear, he wandered over to the kennels to take a look. The dogs were large, solidly muscled and stocky. As he was looking at a particularly sick looking dog, he noticed the Kennel Master was watching him with a thoughtful pose. "You're new here" he stated.

"Yes. I was just looking at the Mabari. They're a lot more solid than I expected them to be" said Galion.

"Ahh - they're not your spindly sheep dog or poofy lapdog. Mabari are built for battle" the human replied.

"This one here looks a bit worse for wear" said Galion, gesturing to the foremost dog.

"Yes, poor bugger. He swallowed some darkspawn blood during the last battle."

"Can anything be done for him?"

"Yeah I think so. Look could you help me out here? If you was to go into the cage, you could muzzle him for me. Then I could start treating him" suggested the Kennel Master.

"Of course I'll help. Pass me the muzzle" said Galion.

Galion entered the kennel and held out his open hand towards the dog. He could sense the sickness in the animal, and waited for the dog to sit calmly. He reached over and clipped on the muzzle, then stroked the animal gently down both sides of his muscular shoulders. Standing, he closed his eyes and cast a purification spell on the dog, which caused his hand and the animal to briefly glow a sky blue. The Kennel Master's eyes widened but he said nothing. Galion looked at the dog intently, and saw that there was some improvement. He left the kennel and closed the gate behind him.

"You're a mage?" asked the Kennel Master.

"Yes, I thought a healing spell might stabilise the Mabari. It seems to have worked a bit. How were you going to treat him, exactly?" asked Galion.

"There's a flower that grows out in the wilds - white with a red centre, it is. A couple of them made into a tonic would purge him properly" said the Kennel Master.

"Is the flower about as big as your palm? Five petals?" asked Galion.

"Yeah that's it - you know it?"

"We call them Menelval. Blood Orchid in your language. If I find any, I will bring them to you" said Galion.

"That would be wonderful, many thanks my friend!" said the Kennel Master.

"A question, if I may - have you seen a Grey Warden named Alistair?"

"Hmm. The Wardens usually keep to themselves. There was one about earlier. He went up that ramp over yonder, just past the quartermaster, you could try there" he paused, thinking. "Are you one of the new recruits?"

Galion nodded.

"Well good luck with your recruitment, and thanks for your help" said the Kennel Master, extending his hand.

Galion shook his hand with a slight smile, and left to find the Warden, Alistair.

-oo-

As he approached the quartermaster, he saw a wiry looking man attempting to flirt with a pretty blonde soldier. Galion could clearly see the exchange was one sided. In fact the woman was glaring daggers at the man, who seemed completely oblivious to the fact. She stomped off towards the army camp, brushing past a bemused Galion. The man span around and noticed the elf, a grin still plastered on his face.

"Hello there! You the new Warden recruit?" asked the man.

"Uhm. Yes, I am. Are you a recruit too?" asked Galion.

"Yes, me name's Daveth. 'Bout time you showed up, we've been waiting for a couple of days" he said.

"My name is Galion" said the elf.

"What - like the boat?" said Daveth, obviously pleased with his play on words.

Galion shook his head with a grin. Better to be called a galleon than a homosexual feline predator.

"What's this place, Daveth?" asked Galion, pointing at the quartermaster's small circle.

"Oh him. He's a miserable bastard, he is. Doesn't like elves neither. He's the camp quartermaster, so that means he supplies stuff like arrers, bits of armour, swords. His stuff is mostly crap but it's all there is". Daveth eyed Galion's Dalish leather armour, his cloak and his staff. "You a mage or something?" he asked.

Galion nodded.

"Good to know. The other recruit, Jory, he's not gonna like that. He's scared of mages I reckon. Him built like a brick shithouse and he's scared of all the hocus pocus stuff" Daveth laughed.

Galion asked "do you know where I could find Alistair?"

Daveth thought for a bit and then said "I think he went up that way", pointing up at a ramp.

"I better go find him" said Galion.

"Yeah, I'll head back to camp. See you later" nodded Daveth, walking towards the Grey Warden camp.

-oo-

Galion walked up the ramp and came upon two humans engaged in an argument about something. He stayed politely out of earshot. One of the humans was a chubby fellow in mage robes, the other was a blonde headed man in some sort of scaled metal armour. Their voices were rising and the mage's neck was getting rather red. He appeared to have had enough, and turned toward Galion, not changing direction even though Galion was easily visible and some distance away.

"Out of the way, fool" he growled, flicking Galion aside like an annoying insect.

Galion spun around and followed the fat prick's progress down the ramp. As he stepped onto the second ramp, Galion cast a tiny root spell, which tripped the mage, sending him sprawling down the ramp in a cloud of dust, swearing and blubber.

"Karma's a bitch" thought Galion.

"That wasn't very sporting of you" said the other man, with a grin on his face. "So I take it you're another mage?" he asked.

"You're Alistair?" asked Galion.

"That's right, so that would make you Duncan's Dalish mage recruit" he replied.

"Correct. My name is Galion" said the elf.

"Like the boat?" asked Alistair.

Galion sighed and ignored the question. "What were you two arguing about, can I ask?"

"Oh that. Well to be honest I was just delivering a message from the Revered Mother. The mage didn't take too kindly to it, as I was once a Templar" said Alistair.

Galion looked carefully at the man near him. Templars generally hunted down mages who were outside of the various Circles of Magi. Alistair noticed the long look and said "I said was once a Templar. Past tense. I'm a Grey Warden now."

Galion blinked and said "Duncan asked me to find you. Something to do with the Joining?"

"Of course. We need to head back to Duncan to find out what he wants you three to do. Have you met Daveth and Jory?" asked Alistair.

"I met Daveth on the way up here. I haven't met Jory yet."

"Lets' go get you acquainted then" said Alistair, walking down the ramp.

"Watch the tree root there" said Galion with a smile.

-oo-

They found Jory in a makeshift chapel beside an infirmary. He was a huge, bearlike figure, with a sword strapped to his back that looked as long as Galion was tall. As Galion and Alistair approached, he turned towards them with a contemplative look on his face.

"Hello Alistair. And you must be the new recruit? You are Dalish, is that correct?" he asked.

"Pleased to meet you, Jory. Yes I'm Dalish. My name is Galion" he replied. "What is this here, a shrine or something?"

"This is a chapel for the infirmary" said Jory, pointing towards the wounded lying on stretchers close by.

Galion looked at the wounded humans and made his way over to them.

Jory made as if to stop him, but Alistair batted his hand aside and put his hand on Jory's chest. "I want to see this" he said quietly.

Galion looked at the patients carefully, moving from soldier to soldier with a measured pace. The nurse attending merely looked at him, not sure what he was doing. Galion unslung his staff and began to chant in elvish, and a bright light decended from the tip of his staff onto three of the wounded men. Their open cuts knitted back together and Alistair could hear audible cracks as bones were fused back together and popped back into various sockets. After ten or fifteen seconds, the light dimmed, and Galion slung his staff back over his shoulder. He bent down beside each of the men he had healed and checked them once again.

The nurse put her hand on Galions' shoulder and gave it a squeeze, not saying anything but with a grateful smile. Galion gave her a grin and said "I'm sorry I couldn't help all of them, but these three at least will be back up and about after a couple of days rest". He squeezed the nurses' hand and took his leave.

Alistair and Jory fell into step on either side of Galion.

"I... that was amazing" said Jory. "I had always found magic unnerving, but this was not like anything I have ever seen" he continued.

"Duncan didn't say much more in his letter apart from you being Dalish and a mage. He certainly didn't say you were a healer. I'll be glad to have you at my back!" said Alistair.

"Good to know my skills will be appreciated" replied Galion.

-oo-

The Warden led his two charges to Duncan's campfire, where Daveth was waiting with Duncan. Seeing the other three standing ready with Daveth, Duncan began to tell them what he required for the Joining ceremony. Three vials of darkspawn blood. In addition, while out in the wilds, they were to look for some old treaties which would be useful for gaining more allies to the Grey Warden cause.

The three recruits and Alistair gathered their packs and left via the south gate into the Kocari Wilds. They had travelled only half an hour or so when Galion stopped, raising one hand.

"Listen" he said.

Daveth and Alistair quietly slid their blades out, ready for an attack. Jory whispered "I can't hear anything."

"Be ready, something is nearby" said Galion. His woodcraft was nowhere near as good as Lyna or Tamlen, but as a Dalish he was still much more attuned to nature than any of the three humans he travelled with.

A low throaty growl could be heard as they made their way down the slope, and a wolf emerged from the shrubs beside the path, barelling into Jory and nearly knocking him over. Jory, no shrinking violet, cuffed the animal with a vicious backhand, then planted his knee into the animals' ribcage with a satisfying crack. The wolf, dazed, dropped back to the ground, where Alistair was able to neatly slice off its' head with an overhead chop from his sword. Jory drew his broadsword and Galion readied his staff as they saw some more wolves coming up towards them.

Galion cast his roots spell to slow down the wolves, finding it a lot easier out in the open rather than inside a building. Daveth moved around to the left flank and began making clean, precision jabs at the wolves closest to him. Jory charged into the middle, with Alistair backing him up and taking the right flank position. The trio made short work of the remaining wolves, with Galion chipping in by casting a more powerful vine spell on the rearmost wolf, crushing it.

"Good work, lads" said Alistair.

Galion bent down to the closest wolf and pressed two fingers on either side of its' eye. He rocked his hand left and right, looking at the eye closely. Satisfied, he got up with a grunt.

"What was that you were doing there?" asked Alistair, as they headed further into the wilds.

"With the wolf? Oh you can tell a lot about an animal from its' eyes. I was looking for signs of fever or disease. There wasn't anything that I could see, so we must have just wandered through their territory" relpied Galion.

Alistair nodded. "Don't go doing that with darkspawn" he said.

Galion snorted and said "why? can I get the taint a second time?" before wandering ahead with Daveth.

Alistair thought for a moment, he'd forgotten that Galion was still ill with the taint. If he wasn't able to go through the Joining pretty soon, he'd have to be killed out of mercy. He pushed those melancholy thoughts to the back of his mind as the recruits had stopped further ahead.

Lying on the ground was a nearly dead soldier. Galion bent down and rolled him onto his back with a grunt. He quickly examined the soldier, who was still holding on to consciousness. He noticed that a lot of the wounds were from serrated blades, leaving ugly ragged gashes which had been bleeding quite heavily. He was also bruised up across the face and had a couple of arrow shafts lodged into his legs.

Motioning for Daveth, who was closer, to help, Galion said "don't be alarmed, human". Galion looked up at Jory, and said "Jory, find me a stick, about a handspan long and about as thick as two fingers. Daveth, help me with his armour here".

Daveth and Galion carefully removed the soldiers' chest armour, and Jory returned with a stick, passing it to Galion. Galion nodded in thanks, then placed the stick across the mans' mouth, giving him something to bite on. He looked at the soldier and said "friend, there are two arrows in your leg which we have to pull. This will hurt, so bite down". Nodding at Daveth, Galion got a good grip on the first arrow shaft and then quickly pulled it out. Daveth, looking a little pale, grabbed the second arrow head, and pulled it out cleanly.

Galion cast a spell which began to knit the muscles in his legs back together where the arrows had been, then turned his attention to the other wounds on his torso. As he cast another couple of spells, the soldier spat out the stick and began to breathe more evenly. Alistair looked on with approval, swinging his pack around for a water skin. Once Galion had finished, he passed the water skin to him. Galion took off the stopper and took a long draught, then passed it to the soldier, helping him take a good long drink.

The soldier, now partially recovered, told them that his party was waylaid by darkspawn, killing all but him. He had been knocked out and it was sheer luck that he'd not been dragged away. As he buckled his armour back on, he thanked the elf who had healed him. The soldier left in the direction they had come from, back towards the main camp.

Jory appeared to be a little rattled by the soldiers' tale, and it was only after Alistair reassured him about the taint sensing abilities of the Grey Wardens that he calmed down.

As they trudged further into the wilds, Galion asked Alistair "can you sense the taint in me?"

"Yes, a little bit. You probably would have to be infected for a lot longer to be mistaken for a darkspawn though".

"What does it feel like? I mean, how does it work, is it like a smell or taste?" asked the elf.

"Hmm. It's difficult to describe. You know how when you get a hot piece of metal, you can feel the heat coming from it even though you're not touching it? It's a bit like that, except inside your body rather than on the skin."

Galion was about to ask something when Alistair added "you'll understand if... when the Joining is finished."

Galion thought for a bit, then continued on in silence. As they made their way further into the wilds, Galion would stop every so often to collect the Menelval flowers that the Kennel Master had asked about.

-oo-

Daveth spotted the first group of darkspawn clustered up on a hill in the distance. He moved back to the others and as a group they snuck up to a fallen pillar where they could get a look at their quarry. "They look like the small ones with bows to me" said Daveth "and a few of the bigger ones down the bottom there" he added.

The others agreed. Galion took a breath and said "well they won't just give us some blood. Let's go". With that he cast his earthquake spell, which had the effect of knocking down the darkspawn archers, taking them out of the fight. Jory and Alistair hurdled the pillar and ran into combat with the hurlocks at the bottom of the hill, who had turned to see what the racket was all about. Jory crash tackled the first hurlock, pinning it to the ground with his broadsword. Alistair smashed the rightmost hurlock in the face with his shield, stunning it, then quickly lopped off its' head. Daveth was using his bow with some success, as he had managed to skewer one of the three archers in the eye. Galion rolled over the pillar and let a searing blast of white light fly from his staff, slicing a hurlock's weapon arm off, then easily sidestepped the enraged creature. As it ran at him he brought his staff up across the hurlock's chest, the momentum knocking the hurlock onto its' back. Jory made short work of the hurlock by stomping on its' neck. The earthquake spell was now spent, and the remaining pair of genlocks on the hill had picked themselves up and were drawing their bows for shots. Alistair had finished off a second hurlock, and bolted up the hill, shield forward. Daveth shot true again, this time hitting a genlock in the arm. It dropped its bow with a clatter, as Alistair fell upon it, ramming his sword through the chest cavity with such force that he was able to lift the genlock off the ground. The remaining genlock aimed at Daveth and missed. Jory and Galion followed Alistair up the hill. Galion was slightly in front, and he began to cast another spell. A powerful beam of light, like a sunbeam, blasted from the end of his staff, not doing any damage to the genlock, but causing it to howl and cover its' eyes, dazzled by the light. The interruption was all Jory needed, as he split the genlock open and followed it up with a kick, knocking it onto its' back, dead before it hit the ground.

-oo-

Working quickly, Galion, Daveth and Jory each filled a vial with darkspawn blood. They handed the vials back to Alistair, who stowed them in his pack. With the blood collected, the only task remaining was to find the treaties which were in an abandoned tower. When the party reached the tower, after fighting through a few more groups of darkspawn, they found the Grey Warden cache chest was broken open, and empty. At this moment, a young woman with dark hair and delicate features emerged from the ruins behind them. Galion did not really hear what she was saying, as he was looking at her lovely figure, revealed all too easily by the scant clothing she wore. After gaining some coherency, the Wardens established that the woman, whose name was Morrigan, knew where the treaties were. Her mother had them, and she was willing to lead the Wardens to her, after some discussion with Galion. Galion forced himself to concentrate. "She's a shemlen!" he chided himself on his momentary weakness. Morrigan led them to a ramshackle hut deep in the wilds. True to her word, her mother had the treaties. She claimed that she had been looking after them, passing them to Galion with a warning: "take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight's threat is greater than they realise!"

With a curt dismissal from her mother, Morrigan led the Wardens out of the swamps and close to the path back up to the camp with about three hours until sunset. Galion spoke to her, saying "thanks for your guidance, Morrigan. I'm sure you shaved two hours off our trip back here."

"You are welcome" was her nonchalant reply, as she vanished into the twisting paths of the wilds.

-oo-

Galion shook his head and followed the others back up the path to the camp. Once inside, he left the other three, telling them that he had to quickly run an errand for the Kennel Master. He found the Kennel Master eating some bread and cheese near the kennel doors. He smiled as Galion approached, wiping his hands on his thighs, and standing up to greet him. Galion rummaged through his pack, bringing out several slightly crushed flowers. "Ahh brilliant, yeah. They're just the thing, my friend. I can make these into an ointment and that should do the trick".

"But how is an ointment going to help the Mabari if he swallowed the blood? Don't you need to make it a cordial or potion?" asked Galion. He noticed that the Mabari's muzzle had been removed.

"Ahh watch and learn, my friend."

The Kennel Master mashed the flowers up with a mortar and pestle, and added some greasy stuff from a punnet. Then he worked in some brownish powder and some salt. He went over to the Mabari, who looked up but remained lying down. The Kennel Master smeared the ointment over the flanks of the Mabari, then stood up to watch.

"See, the ointment is the flowers, plus lanolin and some crushed dried beef marrow, and a bit of salt. You put it on their shoulders and for a Mabari it's like catnip. Watch!"

The Mabari began to lick the ointment off his shoulders while Galion and the Kennel Master watched.

The Kennel Master clapped Galion on the back, saying "well done! That ought to see him back on his feet in a few days. I want you to take some coin as a reward, my friend". As he said this, the Kennel Master pushed a handful of silver coins into Galions' palms.

"Thank you! I was glad to be able to help" said Galion. He took a final look at the Mabari, then left to return to Duncans' campfire.


	3. The Book and the Battle

_A/N: This piece covers the events in Ostagar immediately after Galion has survived his Joining._

-ooOOoo-

_**Chapter 3**_

_**The Book and the Battle**_

-ooOOoo-

Galion opened his eyes slowly, willing away the nausea he felt building up again. The first thing he noticed was that the sun was in the wrong place. Then the events of the previous day came crashing back like a wave. The talk with Duncan about the Joining. Daveth and Jory debating the sacrifices to stop the blight. The cup full of a thick, black, bloody potion. Poor Daveth, felled like a rotten tree in a lightning storm. Jory... Duncan had killed the big fellow when he refused to drink after Daveth! Yes, it was all coming back. Then Galion drank, and... and some strange dream? A green sky and bizarre twisted things, and hordes of darkspawn stomping around.

He levered himself up into a sitting position. He was in a lean-to, like half a tent. His pack was nearby and someone had chucked a blanket over him. He felt within, to see if the taint had been removed from him. Nothing. So far, so good. His stomach growled. He grinned, some things change but some stay the same. Rolling out from under the blanket, he fumbled through his belongings to find his cloak and threw it on. He got to his feet and went to find something to eat.

At Duncan's campfire, Alistair was stirring a small cauldron of soup. Galion shuffled up beside him, grabbing a bowl on the way. Alistair turned to see Galion approach, and grinned "welcome back, Galion. How do you feel?" he asked.

"Hungry. I felt a bit sick earlier but that passed. I had this weird dream though..." he trailed off.

"You get that, you'll have fairly intense dreams for a while, but you'll be able to block them out with some practice" he said.

"I must have been out for a while. It's nearly noon" said Galion, grabbing a couple of ladlefuls of soup. "I still can't believe Daveth and Jory are gone" he added.

Alistair picked up on the way Galion had mentioned the big man's name, and defended Duncan saying "the Joining is a secret and a terrible price to pay. Once Jory had agreed to join the Grey Wardens, it was all or nothing. There's no turning back."

"I disagree, Alistair. Even during the short time that we were in the Wilds, it was plain that Jory was not up to it. He was a good swordsman, I'll give you that. But it's not just martial skills, but being mentally prepared which was part of the test, correct?"

"Well, yes. But Duncan selected him, certain that he would pass."

"I think Duncan was wrong then."

"He can't be right all the time."

"Of course, and now there's a widow and orphan to demonstrate that" snapped Galion.

Alistair scowled and muttered under his breath.

"The decisions we make have far reaching effects, Alistair. I have learned that over time all too well."

Galion sat and began eating his soup, and Alistair snapped his fingers, going over to a tent nearby. He returned in a minute with a book, tied with a neat leather strap. There was a letter tucked in under the strap. "This is yours. Duncan asked me to give it to you when you woke up" said Alistair.

Galion looked at the book carefully. It looked familiar for some reason. He put down his soup bowl and took the book from Alistair with a nod. He slid the letter out and opened it up, recognising the long sloping elvish hand of his Keeper, Marethari.

_Galion, if you are reading this letter then you will have survived the joining ritual that Duncan told me of, and the taint within you has now been harnessed into something useful. I knew you would maintain the fine tradition of the clans and succeed. _

_I know that you have felt that I have favoured Merrill over you during your training in the magic arts. The truth is that there is only ever one second, and while your aptitude and skills were highly developed, they had such focus that the broader base of skills were left a little lacking. This works both ways however, as I know that you are now, in your youth, a better healer than I am with many years of training and practice. Your mastery of the old school of light magic is something remarkable. With that said, I have given you the attached book. It is elvish, so you will have to translate it. Once again your literary skills should prove up to the task. The book details spells from the druidic school. Spells contained within used to be widespread amongst our kin before the founding of the Dales. I would ask that you copy the book as you travel. Learn from it, and use the spells to help the Grey Wardens destroy this blight._

_Galion, you are a treasured apprentice and a fine upstanding man. Show these shemlen what the Dalish can do. Defeat this blight, and come back to us._

The Keeper had signed the letter with a flourish. Galion carefully unwound the leather strap from the book, noting a pale glow from runes etched into the leather. He opened the cover, examining the contents and flicking throught the first few pages idly. Then Galion folded the letter back up and tucked it inside. Alistair looked at the elf and asked "so, what's the book?"

"Elvish stuff for me to study. From my Keeper" he answered warily.

Alistair let out a laugh, saying "here we are, facing a Blight, and you've been given _homework_? That's hilarious!"

Galion thought about it, his face breaking into a grin as he put the book aside and reached for his soup. Alistair helped himself to a bowl and sat down, eating contentedly.

"Where's Duncan?" asked Galion.

"Meeting with some of the other Wardens. He should be back fairly soon. You'll want to talk to him, I expect?"

"Yes, I have questions."

"Maybe I can answer them, you never know" said Alistair, between spoonfuls of soup.

Galion looked at the Warden and said "the main question I have is what do we do now? But I imagine you're in the same position as me".

"True, but we do have a battle to win soon. We'll have to find out what the scouts have found when they return to camp" said Alistair. "Once the battle is over, we'll be able to decide our next steps with the other Wardens."

Galion finished off his soup and stood to clean up his bowl. He picked up his book and tied the leather strap back on it. "I might go and see if the mages have some spare lyrium potions, just in case I need them for this battle" he said.

"That's a good idea. I'll come with you" said Alistair, draining his bowl and chucking it into a bucket of warm water. Galion grabbed his pack from the lean-to and carefully pushed the book inside, then hoisted it over his shoulder and picked up his staff. Alistair pointed ahead and stomped off to the mage camp with the elf following a little behind.

At the mage camp there was a bustle of activity. Mages were weaving some spell, and Templars were eyeballing them, preventing passers by from disturbing them. Galion saw a lone Mage standing by a chest. He walked up and said "hello".

"Hello. How may I be of service" the Mage responded. There was no inflection or emotion in his voice.

"I'm after some lyrium potions. For the battle?" said Galion.

"You are not a Mage of the Circle" was the soulless reply.

"Ah. No, I'm not. But I am a Mage. I'm a Grey Warden too, if that helps" said Galion.

"Yes. We have been asked to offer any assistance to the Grey Wardens. One moment please." With that the strange Mage glided to a chest and unlocked it. Extracting four blue potions, he locked the chest back up and glided back to where Galion and Alistair were waiting.

"Here are four potions for you. Goodbye" said the Mage.

"Thanks" said Galion, looking at Alistair and shrugging. Alistair tugged on Galion's sleeve, motioning with his head to follow. As they walked back the way they had come, Alistair said "I take it you haven't seen Tranquil Mages before."

"Tranquil?"

As Galion said this, a Mage stepped towards them both. "Greetings, Grey Wardens. I am Wynne, senior Mage of the Circle" said the woman.

Galion gave a polite half-bow and said "hello. I'm Galion."

Alistair added "Alistair".

"So you are the new Dalish Warden who went through the joining last night? Congratulations, young man."

"My thanks" said Galion with a slight bow towards the Mage.

"You are a Mage as well, but not sanctioned by a Circle? A wild mage?"

"The shemlen Chantry uses the term 'apostate', I believe. An interesting expression" replied Galion.

"How so?" asked Wynne.

"Apostate is someone who turns away from their religion. Since I have never worshipped your 'the Maker', how can I be an apostate?"

"Which is why I said 'wild mage', so as not to cause offence" said Wynne, with a smirk.

"Indeed. My question was merely rhetorical anyway" replied Galion.

"Galion was just getting over meeting his first Tranquil" remarked Alistair.

"Ahh, yes. The Tranquil" said Wynne. She and Alistair proceeded to fill in the blanks about Tranquil Mages for Galion. Technically they were not Mages, having been sort of magically lobotomised instead of undergoing the Harrowing. They were able to fold lyrium into weapons and armour to enhance them, unaffected by exposure to the substance. Devoid of emotions, Galion had the impression that they were not really _alive_ any more, the thought of it revolted him. Wynne went on to ask the Wardens about the connection between the Fade and darkspawn. Galion merely shrugged and said "the most efficient way to deal with the darkspawn seems to be to kill them. You'd agree with that, wouldn't you, Alistair?"

Alistair nodded. Wynne chuckled saying that strategy- while simple, was remarkably effective. Wynne bid them good day and went back to the Mage camp.

-oo-

An hour later, Galion and Alistair were sitting at one of the Grey Warden campfires. Galion was puzzling out some of the text of the treaties which they had fetched from the Wilds the day before, while Alistair was putting some caulking material across the back of his shield. As he wedged the supple material into the small crevasses, Alistair noticed Galion staring upwards with a far away look in his eyes.

Clearing his throat, Alistair asked "Galion, can I ask you something?"

The elf looked over and nodded.

"When we were in the Wilds yesterday, you used some spells I hadn't come across before. Can you tell me anything about them?"

"Why do you wish to know?"

"Well, we will be fighting the Darkspawn together, so it is useful to know what you can do, I suppose."

"I see. I take it you are referring to the use of light?"

"Yes. I'd never known about such a school of magic."

"It is not a school. It is old magic, from old times. Before the fall of Arlathan, even."

Alistair nodded, waiting for the elf to gather his thoughts.

"But you asked about my skills. I can manipulate light in several forms. Some of those you saw yesterday, but here is another one."

Galion chanted a short verse and opened his hand, and a brilliant light emerged from his palm. The light shone even in full daylight as a beam. He closed his palm and opened it again, flicking the light on and off. A short phrase from Galion finished the spell and the light disappeared.

"That's handy" joked Alistair.

Galion stared at the human before breaking into a grin. "Very clever, Alistair".

The elf stood up and pointed over at a patch of ground which was in the shadow of a tree. He chanted another short spell, and from his open palm, a small object appeared and flew gracefully over to where he directed. The object hit the ground with a clunk, then immediately lit up, emitting a strong white light.

"A flare" said Alistair.

"Yes indeed. They last for about two hours, however I can make stronger ones, but they tire me out more quickly" replied the elf.

"How many of them can you have out at one time?" asked Alistair.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps twelve before I can't cast any more. I would need to rest then before summoning any new ones."

Alistair got up and walked over to the flare. Squinting, he picked it up carefully.

"They're quite safe, they don't burn hot. Think of them like mushrooms that glow at night" said Galion.

"These would be useful instead of torches, if some way was found to stick them to a weapon..." said Alistair.

Galion gave a chuckle, saying "some of my clan mates and I fashioned small cages from stiff vines, then we would use wax to stick them to old helmets. Then we would put a flare in the cage, and we were able to explore caverns and keep our hands free."

"That's an excellent idea, you know" said Alistair.

"I have some other spells. But they're a bit more... destructive in nature. I wouldn't like to fire them off and have every templar running to see what's going on."

"Perhaps during the battle they'll be useful, Galion" said Alistair.

Galion sat down and gathered up the treaties he had been reading before. He had read through these with some interest, noting that his people had signed one of the treaties. As he flicked over the Dwarf treaty, a runner from the main camp approached. He informed Alistair and Galion that Duncan was asking for them, with new instructions for the upcoming battle.

"Time to go" said Alistair, pocketing the flare and collecting his equipment.

Galion nodded, tucking the treaties into his pack along with his book and other belongings. Shouldering his staff, he followed Alistair out to see what Duncan had in store for them.

-oo-

Several hours later, Alistair and Galion were heaving for breath at the roof chamber door of the tower of Ishal. They'd been helped along by an archer called Orgo and a soldier called Fionn, both from the royal army. The pair had fought valiantly alongside the Wardens, mowing down large groups of darkspawn. Alistair had bludgeoned and stabbed many more, while Galion had crushed, sliced and blinded more, while keeping his companions hale and hearty.

Galion stopped his fellow Warden by the door. "Can you hear it? Inside the room" he whispered.

Alistair paused, but couldn't hear anything. Orgo and Fionn, both with helmets on, just took the time to catch their breath, sharing a waterskin. Alistair froze, feeling something new through his tainted blood. "You're right, Galion. There's something in there which we haven't seen up till now. You ready?"

Galion chugged his last lyrium potion (oddly enough, he'd found this one on a dead genlock) but held up his hand. "Alistair, if you see me raise up my staff and start a long chant, seek cover. You two as well" said Galion, turning to the soldiers. "If need be, I can cast a spell called Nova, which will blast everything around me with concentrated light and heat. It will use all of my energy though, and I will probably pass out afterwards" he cautioned.

Alistair swallowed nervously and fumbled at the latch on the door. Cautiously the group climbed the short staircase, only to see an enormous creature snacking on a dead soldier. Galion hoped he was dead, at any rate. The creature was big. It would have had to hunch over in the lower floors, as its' horns (horns? great) would have scraped the roof. The creatures' skin was a sort of greyish tone, a sickly pallor with accents of purple and red veins tracing around its' not inconsiderable bulk. When it turned to face them, Galion could see the eyes of the creature. He didn't need to look up close, as he could see they were milky and suffused with a pus-like liquid, which dribbled down it's face in a sick parody of tears.

The creature dropped its' chunk of meat, and let out a defiant roar, a challenge to its' opponents. Alistair and Fionn darted forward on either side, while Orgo began to calmly load and fire shots on his crossbow, aiming for the face of the creature. Galion attempted a roots spell, but as he suspected, it misfired. He was pretty sure that it was lack of proximity to the surface that caused the nature based spells to fail, or lack of a proper place for roots to bed down. Fionn had managed to get behind the creature, and began to chip away at it's legs with his axe. The creature was directing its' attention towards Alistair, which is why Fionn was surprised when the creature lashed out with a foot backwards, catching him square in the chest and knocking him flying backwards into one of the pillars nearby. Orgo rushed over and dragged him into cover behind some barrels. Galion quickly flung a heal spell at Fionn, but the soldier was knocked out cold. Orgo used the barrels as cover and stayed near his comrade, firing bolt after bolt at the arse of the creature.

Alistair was fighting like a man possessed, ducking under slow, ungainly blows and parrying clumsy attempts to grab him with his shield. Galion fired off a blast of light at the side of the creature, but while it cut deep, it didn't hew off the leg as he meant to. The wound his spell caused was cauterised, meaning the creature could still use it fairly effectively. Alistair was straining with the effort, and his shield was fracturing on the right side. His sword was blunt from the afternoons work, making it less effective than something like a mace. "Galion, if you're gonna do that Nova thing, I suggest _now_!" he yelled. The mage nodded, and raised his staff. Orgo ducked down behind the barrels, making sure his still breathing friend was under cover too. Galion chanted a verse in elvish, and his staff began to pulse with pure white light, gaining intensity and strobing faster and faster. Galion himself began to reflect the light outwards, and his eyes were pure solid glowing white. As he increased the tempo and volume of the chant, the creature looked around, shielding its' eyes from this new, annoying bright thing. Alistair saw his chance and dropped back beside the fireplace where the beacon was built. He glanced at Galion and could not erase the image from his mind. Many months later, Alistair recalled this image as nothing short of inspirational. Galion was now fully ablaze, and a transparent sphere, hazy but bright, surrounded him on all sides. He finished off his chant, and with an earth cracking boom, the light exploded in a myriad of directions, and everywhere there were beams of powerful concentrated light directed away from Galion, incinerating everything they touched. The creature collapsed as the part facing Galion was turned to charred meat, killing it instantly. Orgo and Fionn's makeshift shelter behind the barrels provided them with enough time for Orgo to quickly hurl them behind a stone slab.

The beams lit the beacon. Alistair surveyed the damage as he looked over his elven comrade, who had just collapsed, panting. "What was that thing, Alistair?"

"That was an ogre, Galion" he replied, adding "your spell killed it, and it lit the beacon. In fact I don't even think we needed the beacon with a display like that."

Galion nodded, then surrendered to unconsciousness. Alistair crossed to the balcony and looked down over the battle that was in full swing below. Any minute now the Teryn's troops would come along, and... but where were they? He surveyed the field, looking for the Wardens and the King. Orgo had come up beside him. "Fionn's out cold, but the Warden healed him good. He'll live" said the burly archer.

"Where's Loghain's troops?" muttered Alistair.

"They should be coming from that side, Warden" said Orgo, gesturing to the south. "It's not lookin real good down there, if they don't get a move on..." he continued.

On the field below, Duncan had seen a massive burst of white light, casting shadows on the battlefield, despite the fierce weather. He looked up and saw the beacon on the tower lit, and wondered where Loghain's troops were. Wounded already, he looked around for the King, thinking that they only needed to survive a few more minutes before the Teryn's men arrived. Now where were they... ?

Cauthrien was glad she was marching at the rearguard of her troops as they retreated. With her visor down, no-one could see the tears streaming down her face as she mourned her doomed King.

"No, no, NO! What the hell are they doing?" cried Alistair, seeing the troops march away.

"You're going the wrong fucking way!" yelled Orgo, as if the troops could hear him.

There was a crash as the door downstairs was smashed off its' hinges, and a group of darkspawn moved in, firing arrows at the two humans standing opposite.

Flemeth circled the battlefield again. She had seen the burst of light, and the retreat of the Teryn's troops like pieces on a chessboard. If she did not have a beak, she would have smirked at the folly of men, trying to stop the blight so early. May as well try to stop the tides with a clenched fist and harsh words. But now, there was something to salvage from below, and she dove towards the tower where the light had come from. Hopefully she would be in time.


	4. Doubling Up

_A/N: This piece covers the events in Lothering, where Galion, Alistair and Morrigan recruit some more companions, and an old acquaintence makes a reappearance._

-ooOOoo-

_**Chapter 4**_

_**Doubling Up**_

-ooOOoo-

The trio of travellers had settled in to a barely visible clearing on the northern edge of the Korcari Wilds. Galion and Alistair had been joined by Morrigan, the very same witch who had assisted them in obtaining the Grey Warden treaties less than a week earlier. Earlier that evening, she had changed into a wolf in order to catch a couple of rabbits for the evening meal. Galion commented on it as he was braising the rabbit pieces with some wild onionweed on a hot piece of metal over the fire.

"So you are skilled in Shapeshifting, Morrigan?" he asked.

"Indeed, Warden" replied the witch, pausing before adding "your own people also use the same magic, is that not so?"

Galion nodded, sprinkling some wild thyme onto the rabbit and onionweed pieces. "In my clan there were no shape changers, but several of the clans to the east and north utilise the craft."

"You did not learn it yourself, then?" asked the witch.

"No, nor did Merrill, nor our keeper" replied Galion. "My own leanings were more towards natural magic and healing".

"And light, from what I have seen" commented Morrigan, looking pointedly at Galions' staff, which was a few metres away, spiked into the ground and emitting a bright light from the top.

"Light is a useful branch of Primal magic, seldom studied even amongst we Dalish."

Alistair moved into the circle of light, having been off collecting some more wood for the fire. He threw down his bundle of logs and planted himself at one end of the fire, making a triangle of faces illuminated by the glow. "That smells good, Galion. Is it rabbit?" asked Alistair.

"Morrigan caught them while I found the roots" said Galion, gesturing at the pot nearby which held some orange and white shapes, bubbling happily in water.

Alistair gestured over to the shelter which Galion had created. "Will that thing last the night? It won't collapse on us overnight, will it?"

Galion had used his magic to grow a series of roots and vines from the ground, then weaved them together to form a tent like structure. This would accomodate the three of them tonight. Galion had the forethought to make an internal screen so Morrigan would have some privacy.

"It will be fine, Alistair. It's solid enough for our purposes."

"It looks like a croissant. An Orlesian bread" commented the templar.

Galion smirked, thinking that the human Warden must be getting over his grief and returning to his wise cracks, rather than the dull silence of the last day or so. He poked the closest rabbit piece with a knife, and the clear juice told him it was done. The trio shared out the food, and while chatting discussed what items they should try to get in Lothering the following day.

-oo-

Morrigan winced as she hobbled towards the abandoned cart, leaning heavily on Galion. She sported a crossbow bolt through her calf muscle, courtesy of one of the bandits who had attempted to waylay them outside of Lothering. Alistair, Galion and Baran were unscathed. It was only that the crossbow fired when its' owner hit the ground dead that caused this predicament. Baran was the newest addition to the group, the very same Mabari that Galion had helped treat while in camp at Ostagar. He'd already proved adept at killing darkspawn, and now had a bandit or two to add to his tally.

Galion helped Morrigan onto the back of the cart, then carefully lifted up her leg, letting her heel sit on his shoulder so he could get a better look at the wound.

"Alistair, in my pack there's a rolled up leather pouch, can you get it for me?" asked the elf.

Alistair nodded, and dug around in his friends' pack, finally pulling out the roll in question. He plopped it down beside Morrigan and unrolled it. "What is all this stuff, Galion?" asked Alistair.

"It's some bits from a fletching kit - the kind of thing you use to make arrows. I use it to keep some tools in there - ah, that's what I need" he replied, pulling out a pair of large clippers.

Morrigan stifled a cry as Galion carefully slid the clippers over the vaned end of the quarrel. Galion looked up at the witch, concerned. "Do you need something to bite down on, Morrigan?"

The witch merely nodded, and Alistair pulled out an empty leather scabbard and proffered it to the witch. She took it and put the scabbard in her mouth, nodding to Galion to continue. The elf sliced through the back end of the quarrel, leaving a small but clear stump sticking out of Morrigan's leg. Working quickly, Galion grabbed a tool that looked like a pair of pliers and clamped down on the head of the quarrel. With a fluid motion, he wrenched the remainder of the quarrel through the wound, leaving a clean hole that punched through the witches' calf muscle. Quickly chanting in elvish, he closed the wound, knitting the tissues back together and regrowing the torn skin and muscles.

Galion inspected the wound site and used a clean cloth to wipe the witches' blood away from both sides. The witch spat out the scabbard and took a deep breath, then sighed. "Thank you, Warden" she said, with an incline of her head and a small smirk.

"Ah, it was no trouble, Morrigan. You will let me know if there is any stiffness later in the day, won't you?"

Galion wiped down and packed up his tools while Alistair re-read the note he'd found on the body of a knight beside where they had fought the bandits. "Galion, we need to decide where we're going to go, once we've picked up equipment here" said Alistair.

Galion climbed up into the cart beside Morrigan and sat down, looking over at the witch. "What do you think, Morrigan?" he asked.

The witch pursed her lips, then suggested "we should go after this fellow, Loghain, whom you have spoken so highly of. Once he is out of the way, then these treaties can be followed in safety."

"You can't be serious! Loghain would be in Denerim, in a fortress surrounded by guards, and an army... it's just not possible!" exclaimed Alistair.

"I was asked for my opinion, and I gave it" retorted the witch.

"Is that true, Alistair - would Loghain be back in Denerim by now?" asked Galion.

"I think so. He would have crawled back to his burrow there after running out on us at Ostagar."

Galion furrowed his brow while he thought about what to do. He had read the treaties and knew where to get help from. The Mages were the closest, but not by a lot. Galion estimated he could find one of the Dalish clans fairly quickly. The Dwarves of Orzammar were the furthest away, so they could wait.

"We should also see Arl Eamon in Redcliffe. It's not very far, and he's no friend of Loghain. He will be sure to lend us his support" said Alistair, breaking the elf's reverie.

Galion hopped down from the cart and slung his pack over his back. Extending a hand to help Morrigan down, he picked up his staff and faced his fellow travellers. "We need some supplies and some information about the battles. Once we have those, then we can choose where to go next. Let's head into this shem - human town and make a start."

"Good enough" said Alistair, noting that Morrigan was nodding as well.

-oo-

Lothering was a small village that had grown alongside a junction in two trade roads. To the north were the myriad of farms and freeholdings of the Bannorn. To the south was the last gasp of the Imperial highway, which led to Ostagar and the wilds. To the west along the southern shore of Lake Calenhad was Redcliffe, while along the eastern shore of the lake was the Circle Tower and eventually Highever and finally the sea. The Chantry dominated the buildings in the village, most of which were neat wooden huts. A small stream ran through the village, which was crossed by a footbridge.

Galion and his companions stopped by a notice board in front of the chantry, which indicated a few jobs that the chantry was willing to pay for. Morrigan grumbled a bit about aiding the Chantry, however Alistair reminded her that they needed money, and this was a pretty easy way to obtain it. The group headed over the bridge into the central part of the village. To the right was an inn called Dane's Refuge. "We'll probably find supplies in there - once we have some coin" said Alistair. His Dalish companion nodded, still a little apprehensive being amongst all of these humans.

As they left the edge of the town, they saw a crow cage with a large figure crammed into it. The figure was muttering something in a deep voice which neither warden nor witch (nor dog, probably) could understand.

"By the Creators, a giant!" exclaimed Galion.

The giant glowered at Galion and in a deep voice rumbled "leave me be, elf. I'll not amuse you any more than the humans around here."

"My apologies, giant. I cannot help to wonder how a creature of your size remains trapped in this flimsy cage. Surely just sitting down and sticking out your legs would break the lock?"

The giant stared at the elf, saying nothing.

"Who are you?" asked Alistair.

The giant looked over at the warden, then looked back at Galion, saying "I am a Sten of the Beressad. I am of the Qunari people".

"The Uraman of the North. My tribe has heard of your people" muttered Galion. "How did you come to be in this cage?"

"I slew some farmers" the qunari stated, matter-of-factly.

"I see. So you don't break free because you are remorseful? Or do you seek death from the darkspawn horde?"

"It is as you say" said the qunari, looking down at his feet.

Looking at Alistair, he said "Sten, we find oursleves in need of assistance."

"Really. What type of assistance do you need?" asked the qunari.

"We seek aid to stop the blight. We are Grey Wardens. Fight along side us, find atonement by killing the darkspawn which would seek to destroy us all" said Galion. Alistair nodded solemnly.

"Who has the key to the cage?" asked Alistair.

"The head priestess in the Chantry would probably have it" growled the Qunari.

"Even if he does not decide to join us, we should let him out anyway. To be left for the darkspawn is too horrible a fate for any man, regardless of his crime" whispered Morrigan.

"Consider what we offer, Sten. We will be back" said Galion, who took his waterskin and placed it at the bottom of the cage beside the qunari's feet.

-oo-

As it happened, Galion and his companions ran into a few scattered groups of bandits, while they were looking for the nest of spiders and bear den for the Chantry board. If Morrigan had any lingering doubts about Galion and Alistairs' ability to fight, they were quickly put to rest. Galion's acceptance of the new mabari, Baran, was also justified, as the plucky dog was able to take on a pair of archers by himself and come out on top. The fight against the group of bears allowed Galion to cast an entangling roots spell, which caught all the bears within. While pinned in place, the bears could do little more than growl and claw at the roots that held them. Morrigan was able to charge up a powerful lightning spell, which arced across two bears, electrocuting both of them. Alistair ducked in beside the last bear and slipped his sword into its' throat.

"We should skin these. Bear skins are really good as blankets or cloaks" suggested Galion.

"We won't have time to cure and tan these, Galion. The darkspawn, remember?" said Alistair.

"Can't we sell or swap them though? I thought I saw a place with skins hanging outside on the edge of town."

Alistair sighed and watched as Galion and Morrigan showed him how to skin a bear. Baran was happy to roll around in the dusty ground. After the task was finished, Galion and Baran took the three skins (which were quite heavy as they were still fresh) towards the building he'd seen, while Morrigan and Alistair went to the Chantry to collect their payments for services rendered.

The group met back at the entrance to Dane's Refuge, the local tavern for Lothering. One of the villagers was quite forthcoming with information about what had happened in the last couple of weeks, and Galion filed away the necessary information while he waited for his human companions.

"What did you get for the skins, Galion?" asked Alistair.

"He gave me some buckskin and a cured bear pelt. And some coins" said the elf, holding up a few silver coins. He passed the money over to Alistair, who added it to the few sovereigns he'd collected with Morrigan.

They stepped into the tavern, taking a few seconds at the doorway for their eyes to adjust to the dim light within. A few soldiers were sprawled about in various stages of inebriation. A bard was upstairs playing some cantina melody, while a few onlookers nodded in time with the music.

"You! It's you!" cried a soldier, close to the fireplace. His lithe frame and bow marked him as a scout of some kind. Galion thought and his brow furrowed. He had seen this man before, but could not place him.

The man bustled forwards, reaching Galion in a few strides, before grabbing the elf's hand and shaking it vigourously.

"I'm so pleased to see you alive! Especially after what they said about the Grey Wardens at Ostagar. I told you sergeant, didn't I tell you?"

"Enough, Garrick." A burly looking officer walked forwards, eyeing the Wardens. "So you are Grey Wardens, then?"

Galion looked at Alistair and nodded towards the sergeant.

"My instructions are to apprehend you, but I'm not about to do that. You saved the life of my brother here, and that's a debt I'm now repaying."

Galion's eyes widened as he looked at the man called Garrick. "I remember - you were the wounded soldier we found in the wilds. We pulled those arrows and I healed you up."

"I'm glad you made it back to camp. Especially now" said Alistair, looking at the sergeant.

"Whose instructions?" asked Galion, looking up at the sergeant.

"Teyrn Loghains', of course" replied the man. "We will give you until sunrise to leave, Wardens. I cannot disobey orders longer than that." The sergeant sketched a salute at the Wardens, and ordered his men out of the tavern. Garrick slapped Alistair on the back as he left with a satisfied grin on his face. Alistair watched them leave with a bemused grin on his face, then ordered some drinks from the tavern keeper. The three sat down at the table the soldiers had occupied, with Baran lounging near the wall.

"I have a feeling we just dodged an arrow there" said Galion. "Those soldiers would have tried something rash if not for Daveth and I helping out that one in the wilds."

"Wardens, we should be on the move soon. Noon has passed and we shall need to find some place to camp ere nightfall. We cannot stay in this village" said Morrigan.

"That Qunari in the cage. We'll need to get the key from the revered mother in the Chantry" said the templar, taking a sip of his watery ale.

Galion noticed someone approaching the group. She was dressed in Chantry robes, with her red hair and pale skin standing out against the mute browns of the robes. She stood at the head of the table, between Galion and Morrigan and seemed to gather up her courage before speaking.

"Excuse me, but I could not help but notice that those soldiers called you Grey Wardens. Is this true?"

Her accent was not lost on Alistair or Galion, who recognised the Orlesian influence but for different reasons.

"That is true" stated Galion, not sure how to address a Chantry sister. Alistair nodded and Morrigan looked up, interested.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Leliana, formerly of the Lothering Chantry."

"Formerly?" asked the elf.

"Yes. I would like to come along with you."

Galion looked over at Alistair, who was mirroring his raised eyebrows. Morrigan uncharacteristically stifled a giggle into her hand.

"Well, I'm all for willing volunteers, but we're not going to be taking tourists. We'll be doing a lot of fighting, sister, as you can see" said Alistair, gesturing to the blood stains and spider gore on his boots.

"Oh, I wasn't always in the Chantry. I can fight, and shoot rather well" said Leliana, looking at Alistair.

Galion looked at Alistair, who shrugged.

"We do need help, that's true. In fact there is a task you can help us with right here in the town" said Galion.

Leliana looked over at Galion, realising that he was probably the leader.

"What do you know about the qunari in the crow cage outside of the gates?" asked the elf.

-oo-

With Leliana's help, Galion and Alistair were able to secure the key for the Sten's cage. While the Wardens spoke with the templar commander, Ser Bryant, Leliana collected her meagre belongings and rejoined her new companions. Alistair also introduced Galion to Ser Donall, who was able to shed more light on the dead knight the group had come across on the causeway. Alistair was alarmed to learn that the Arl of Redcliffe, Eamon, was very ill, and the bulk of the knights had been sent off to look for an artefact called the 'Urn of Sacred Ashes'.

Galion had quite a different reaction to both Leliana and Alistair when the Urn was mentioned. As far as he was concerned, Andraste was a human, who had helped Shartan and the elves to throw off the yoke of Tevinter rule and found the Dales, the second Dalish homeland. Leliana and Alistair, both Chantry educated, saw her as the bride of the Maker. Galion often wondered how humans only managed with one deity. Surely he would be very busy. Maybe that's why shemlen were always in a rush.

Morrigan and Baran had been waiting at Sten's cage. The taciturn qunari had said little, but Morrigan had noticed that Galion's water skin was now empty. When the other three approached, she retrieved the water skin and passed it back to Galion.

"So you wish to live, qunari? Join us, and find your atonement by helping these humans against the darkspawn" said Galion.

"As you wish. Release me and I will follow you against the Blight" said Sten.

Galion motioned to Leliana, who used the Revered Mother's key in the lock, leaving the key in place once it had popped open. Galion gave Sten a couple of apples and some dried meat, then presented him with a two handed sword and some steel armour which had previously belonged to a bandit leader.

"This equipment should be sufficient" muttered the qunari, between mouthfuls of food.

The group, now numbering six, left Lothering with three hours until nightfall. The plan was to walk at a brisk pace for a couple of hours and then set up camp. Once they reached the northern entrance to the causeway, a group of darkspawn attacked the group. The darkspawn had been menacing a pair of dwarves, but once the Grey Wardens arrived they homed in on them like a beacon. Galion took the opportunity to hold back, watching to see how well Sten and Leliana would fare against darkspawn. He threw heal spells at Sten and Alistair, but didn't actively attack any darkspawn himself. Leliana proved to be adept with a bow, and she pinned several darkspawn in place, and caught at least one of them in the eye with a well placed arrow.

Morrigan froze and electrocuted several, while Baran bowled over a genlock and ripped off it's face and throat. In a few minutes, the darkspawn were dead, and none of the party had even a nick or scratch, thanks to Galion's healing and their own skill.

The dwarves who had been hiding behind a cart came forward and introduced themselves as Bodahn Feddic and his son, Sandal. The pair had been collecting equipment from amongst the wreckage and hadn't noticed the darkspawn until it was too late. Fate seemed to favour them as it was at this moment the Wardens arrived. In exchange for the safety of their camp, Bodahn and Sandal agreed to carry their bulkier equipment in their ox cart. This meant the Wardens had now a party of eight, doubled in less than six hours.

-oo-

The camp that night had a pair of fires, a large central one, and Morrigan had a smaller one off to one side. Perhaps the witch still did not feel comfortable around large groups of people. Galion was used to communal fires and camps, and the stillness reminded him a little of his tribe at night. He wondered how his clanmates were - Lyna, the clown, Merrill his best friend, Fenarel the stoic, and Tamlen... the dead. He sighed, and looked around at his new clan. Seeing the qunari seated on the opposite side of the fire, he walked over. Sten looked up as he approached, suspiciously.

"How long were you in that cage, Sten?"

"Two or three weeks. I lost count."

"That long without food or water?"

"No, it rained from time to time. This is Ferelden, after all. Rain is inevitable."

Galion appraised the qunari while Sten watched. There was no distended belly from starvation, and he seemed to have retained a lot of muscle mass. He knew a little of qunari physiology, but as the giants were so rare in Ferelden - and even more so amongst the Dalish - he had not had the chance to study one up close before. Sten seemed to tolerate the Dalish poking him every so often, and grudgingly lifted his arms, splayed his fingers and looked left and right while Galion muttered to himself. The mage had healed Sten in the short skirmish with the darkspawn, and was now trying to learn about the qunari in order to heal him more efficiently.

After some time, Galion finished his inspection of Sten with a nodding of his head.

"You are fit enough to fight?" It was a statement, but Galion had posed it as a question to the qunari.

"I am, warden. You need not be concerned" replied the giant.

Galion sat down with Leliana and Sten at the main fire, while Alistair was nearby, sharpening his sword. As Morrigan was already familiar with the Grey Warden treaties, he decided to explain his plan for persuing the old Grey Warden alliances.

"We have three treaties with which the Grey Wardens made with certain groups a long time ago. The Dwarves of Orzammar, the Circle of Magi and my people, the Dalish. In the text of the treaties is a promise of large forces of fighters to commit to aiding the Grey Wardens" he began.

Alistair joined the others at the fire, still carrying his whetstone and sword. "We also can probably get help from Arl Eamon of Redcliffe. He's a good man and wasn't present at Ostagar, so the main part of his forces should be intact" he added.

"We'll be making for the Circle of Magi first. It's the closest, and should be only a matter of talking to the, err... First enchanter, I think that's his title."

"What happens once all of these armies have been recruited, Warden?" asked the qunari.

"By then the archdemon will have shown itself" said Alistair.

"We then need to convince the man Loghain to commit his armies to our cause. I'm hopeful he will see the logic of combining our strength."

"The man is a regicide and a traitor" grumbled Alistair.

"He's also declared us outlaws, so we should keep a low profile for a few months until things die down a bit" said Galion.

"I think this has all the makings of a great tale. A band of outlaws, recruiting the population against the Blight, and a final showdown with a great evil" said Leliana, with a far-away smile on her face.

Galion looked at Alistair and Sten, who shrugged.

"After we've been to the Circle of Magi, we will try to contact my people. That may take a while, but it is on the road to Denerim, and we will need to check in there sooner or later" said Galion. He stretched and felt a couple of pops on his spine.

"That's the general plan, at least. We'll try to stick to it as best as we can. But for now, you two and Alistair need to get some sleep. I'll take first watch with Morrigan. Alistair, I'll wake you and Leliana in six or seven hours, and Sten, you'll be on first watch with me tomorrow night."

The qunari nodded and left the campfire, along with the two humans. Baran was dozing by the fire, and Galion motioned to Morrigan to come over and stand the watch with him. It was the beginning of a pattern that lasted many nights.


	5. The Elf and the Templar

_A/N: This piece covers the events between Lothering and the Mage Tower. Galion gets to know his new companions and continues to work on translating his book._

-ooOOoo-

_**Chapter 5**_

_**The Elf and the Templar**_

-ooOOoo-

Alistair finished stacking some more wood for the campfire. He and Sten had found enough dry wood in the copse they were in for several days burning. While he had cut and stacked it, Sten had been clearing some space and digging a junk pit (a polite euphemism for a long drop toilet). Leliana and Galion had gone to catch some game for the evening meal, while Morrigan and the dwarves had set up the camp fires and some cauldrons of water. This was a simple pattern that Alistair secretly enjoyed, a few comrades, simple tasks and later there would be food and talk and hopefully a good night's rest. Apart from the nightmares which still occasionally cropped up. He'd noticed Galion had yelled out a couple of times in the last week, screaming in elvish before poking his head out of the tent, his face ashen. Alistair had spoken to him about it.

"These intense nightmares, they're part of becoming a Grey Warden" he had said.

"Do they ever go away? I notice you don't seem to get them often" asked Galion.

"Oh, I get them still. But after a while you can sort of block them out" replied Alistair.

Galion pondered this, and Alistair added "Duncan said that during a blight, the new recruits have a terrible time of it."

The elf looked over at him and nodded. "Oh yes. I'm going to need to make some sleeping draughts at this rate, just to get a night's rest."

"Why haven't you already? Or just cast a sleep spell on yourself?" asked the templar.

"Only if we were attacked at night I wouldn't be much use asleep, Alistair" replied the elf, smirking.

Alistair's reverie was interrupted by Baran, who butted his head against the templar's leg. The mabari dropped a stick at his feet, and looked up hopefully. Alistair gave the hound a pat while he picked up the stick, and then pelted it across the clearing. Baran took off like an arrow, nearly bowling over Sandal as he sprinted for the stick. The templar grinned, noting that Baran seemed always up for chasing a stick. It was difficult to believe that he was a war dog sometimes. Alistair had asked Galion what Baran meant, expecting something like 'mauler' or 'angel of death in elvish history', but the elf just chuckled and said "brown. It means brown. I wasn't at my most creative when he came along."

"Well, it's ... accurate, at least" said Alistair.

After some ten minutes of Baran fetching the stick with Alistair, the mabari wuffed and headed out of the clearing, leaving stick and templar behind. Sten looked over, having just finished his tasks. "The hound has probably heard his master close by" he muttered, before taking a deep draught of water. Alistair nodded, and fed some more logs onto the campfire.

-oo-

Galion and Leliana were dragging a fat, dead boar between them. As they stopped for a breather, Galion said "I should have learned a levitate spell, it would have saved us a lot of effort".

Leliana agreed, smiling at the elf. She'd helped kill the boar by shooting it in the eyes while Galion pinned it in place with his roots spell. The pair hadn't skinned or dressed the animal, only because neither one relished the idea of having a bloody trail to the campsite. As it was, the boar was more or less intact and was not bleeding too much.

"I still don't get this whole 'Maker' idea, Leliana. You say he made everything?"

Leliana sighed "yes, Galion". This discussion had gone on all during their hunt, after she had told Galion about her dream, and the motivation for her helping out the Grey Wardens.

"So why did he make the elvhen have a whole different pantheon of Gods?"

"I tried to explain before, Galion. They are just different facets of the Maker, much like actors playing several parts".

"What about the Qunari? From what Sten says, they don't believe in any Gods" continued Galion. He knew Leliana had a very strong belief in the Maker, and he was just playing with her, a bit of verbal sparring.

"That doesn't matter. The Maker created them for a purpose as well, it is just one that has not been revealed to us yet" she said. Leliana was quite enjoying the banter, despite being sweaty and having pig blood on her legs and arm. "Yuck" she muttered.

Galion looked at the bard, thinking he was pretty grotty as well. "We're nearly back, Leliana. We can have a wash when we string up this boar at camp."

"We?" said Leliana, surprised.

"Of course" said Galion, confused. "Didn't you want to get all that muck off you?"

"Well yes, but women don't wash with men, unless..."

Galion chuckled "ah. Human sensibilities, I see. I had thought it was something like this - the first time Morrigan was washing, and I came along to join her. You see Dalish share a lot, and we bathe communally".

"What happened?" asked Leliana.

"She saw me coming, and she made no secret of wishing to be alone. I simply waited for her to finish then continued".

"So you watched her the whole time? How brazen." muttered Leliana.

Galion laughed at that. Human interactions were different to Dalish ones, and he expected upsetting a few shems during his travels. That was their problem as far as he was concerned.

There was a natural pause in the conversation, then Leliana asked "Galion, what do those markings mean on your face - the tattoos?"

Galion was surprised at this question, out of the blue. "They're called vallaslin in my tongue - which means blood writing. My own represents Sylaise, the goddess of the hearth."

Leliana looked carefully at the design which was etched on the blonde elf's face. He continued "each God in the Pantheon has their own distinct pattern, and they're marked on the elvhen on reaching adulthood. I chose Sylaise because to me, she represents what I do, which is to nurture and heal."

"So each elf chooses their own, err... patron deity?" asked the bard.

"Yes, that's a fair summary" said Galion, pausing before adding "this is a lot more than most shemlen would learn about the Dalish, Leliana. I'm only trusting you with this because you trusted me with your story of the vision you had."

"Thank you, Galion. It's true, most tales we hear of the Dalish involve baby snatching or other horrible things."

"Well, I try to keep the baby snatching down to a minimum, you know. It's bad for morale" joked the elf. Leliana chuckled with the elf, as the pair resumed their task of dragging the boar back to camp. They had not made much progress when Baran bounded in, barking and leaping around. "You're a show-off, with all that energy" said Galion. Baran snorted, then grabbed a hold of the rope which Galion was using to drag the boar. He was surprisingly strong, and Galion was left impressed by the intelligence of the animal. With the help of the hound, the human and elf dragged the boar back up to the campsite, where Sten waited impassively. He appraised the kill quietly, and heaving it up by the back legs, expertly trussed the boar in place before hoisting it up onto a hook which hung from a low tree branch.

Galion handed Sten a razor-sharp dar'misu, a Dalish dagger, which the qunari used to deftly slice open the boar. Baran looked on with some interest as a steady stream of blood trickled from the dead animal, while Alistair was looking a little pale. Leliana had already grabbed her soaps and was heading towards the creek nearby. Sten seemed to have the butchering well in hand, so Galion excused himself with a nod and trailed Leliana to the creek.

-oo-

Morrigan had been grinding some roots for potions while the camp was being set up. She did not mind the methodical work, as it allowed her to get her thoughts in order while her hands moved almost automatically. She was quite intrigued by the elf Warden, and in particular the tome he had shown her a couple of nights ago. She had seen him hunched over the book, mumbling in elvish, while making notes on a scrap of parchment as he read. The warden was so engrossed in his reading that Morrigan was able to sit beside him before he looked over at her, owlishly. "Hello, Morrigan" said Galion, while letting the book sit open in his lap.

"Good evening, Warden. What is the book you have there?" asked the witch.

Galion nodded, leaning the book so that Morrigan could see the contents. "It's a very old tome which my keeper has asked me to study and translate" he said, gesturing at the pages.

Morrigan looked at the pages, and to her surprise, the text was moving around, dancing across the pages. The letters swirled and disappeared, re-forming in different orientations soon after. Confused, she looked at the elf, asking "what sort of work is this? I cannot focus on the text - the letters move about so."

Galion raised one eyebrow, looking from the witch to the pages and back. "That's strange - the letters are solid when I look at them. How interesting" he said.

Morrigan stared at the page for a minute, before blinking rapidly and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Ugh. No, if I try to focus on the text, it makes my head ache" she said.

Alistair was sitting opposite the mages, and was interested in the conversation that they had been having. "Is that Galion's homework book, Morrigan?"

The witch looked blankly at the templar before turning back to the elf, who nodded. "What did you have to add to the discussion, Alistair?" she asked.

"No need to get high and mighty, Morrigan. I can't see any of the text at all. To me the pages all look blank. To be honest, I thought it was a journal that Galion had to fill in" said Alistair, turning his attention back to polishing his gauntlets.

"That's interesting. He can't see anything, and you see random marks, but I can see the text as clear as crystal" said Galion, gesturing towards the templar and witch in turn.

"There must be some sort of ward across the book, which prevents any but elven making use of it" suggested Morrigan.

"That seems likely, given what the three of us see" agreed Galion.

Morrigan thought for a minute, before asking "what is the book about, may I ask?"

Galion paused, gathering his thoughts before answering "it's an ancient book recording spells of my people in Arlathan."

Morrigan's eyes widened in surprise. "It must be ancient indeed, for Arlathan fell many centuries ago. Dozens of centuries, even. How old is this tome?"

"It's hard to guess, Morrigan, as it appears to have been preserved magically. It would be older than the Chantry were I to estimate its' age".

"Have you discovered much?"

"Not yet. The language is elvish, but it's a very archaic form which I am having to work out as I go. I have had a lot of practice at this sort of thing, so it should not be long before I can start to glean spells from the book."

"But have you learned of the type of magic contained within?" pressed the witch.

"Well..." said the elf, hesitating. "It's centred around druidic magic, which is like nature-based magic, and even has some mention of your shapeshifting, from what I can gather" continued Galion.

"Druids?" piped up Alistair, who'd been keeping half an ear on the conversation. "Aren't they supposed to be a myth? Ancient guardians of the forest or some such thing?"

The witch nodded, adding "Alistair speaks truly, they were supposed to be just a rumour amongst the elves. At least that is all my Mother said when she mentioned them."

"Oh no, they were real alright" said Galion. "The legends say that they were able to bend the forests to their will, to hide amongst the predators of the woods, and to call forth the winds and earth in times of need."

"This should prove to be most interesting once you have made some progress in translation, Galion" said Morrigan. "If you should need any assistance, I would be pleased to help" she added.

Morrigan's thoughts wandered back to the present as she realised she had run out of elfroot. She only needed a half dozen more, and it would be a shame to waste the distillation agents she had prepared. She stood up, dusting the root fragments from her skirt, and wandered down to the creek where she hoped to find the ingredient she needed. Morrigan had not quite made it to the creek when she heard the laughter of the bard coming from the direction of the creek. Curious, she ducked down amongst the low bushes and silently crept towards the source of the noises. Morrigan did not expect to see Galion and Leliana both waist deep in water, splashing each other and chuckling as they did so. A couple of pieces of freshly cleaned clothing hung from a tree nearby, still dripping. Galion and Leliana seemed to have pulled some rocks into place to make a bit of a pool in the creek, and the water burbled from the pool in a small waterfall while the elf and bard washed. The witch edged closer, and she could make out their conversation.

"You see, in Orlais, the nobles would often have elven servants" said the bard.

"I can't imagine that. A life tied to obeying one master, how... repulsive" replied Galion, flicking some water at Leliana.

The human splashed back at the elf, continuing "I don't know if it was all bad. A lot of the elves had better lives than the humans there. Some even had human servants themselves."

Galion laughed at this, his voice stirring something in Morrigan's thoughts. "You know, Leliana, my life is now a bit like those servants, except instead of a single master, I have Grey Warden duties to follow" said the elf.

"That's true. But would you still follow these duties if you had the choice?" asked the bard.

Galion paused, water dripping from his arms as he stretched them above his head. "Ask me again in a couple of months. I'd have to think about it."

Leliana nodded, and turned towards the bank, wading away from Galion. The elf breathed in and said "Leliana! What happened to your back?"

Leliana gasped. She had intended to keep her scars hidden from Galion for as long as possible. They were physical reminders of events in her past. "They are old scars, Galion. Some time I will tell you how I received them, but not yet."

Galion nodded, and followed the human out of the water. "If they cause you pain, I can remove them" he said, quietly.

"It's not physical pain they cause, my friend. Maybe later" said Leliana, clasping the shoulder of the elf. She let him go and the pair began to dry off and put on some dry clothing.

By this stage Morrigan had seen enough, and she was getting pins and needles from sitting still for so long. She stood up and crashed through the undergrowth, feigning surprise on seeing her two fellow travellers. "Hello Warden, Leliana" said the witch, nodding to each in turn. Not waiting for their response, she scanned along the riverbank until she saw what she came for, a bright green tussock of elfroot. She went over and began pulling the roots out, throwing them in a small pouch hung about her waist. The other two exchanged glances, shrugged and continued getting changed, Leliana gathering the now dry clothing.

"Do you need any help, Morrigan?" asked Galion, as Leliana walked back up to the camp, clothes in hand. The witch looked up at the elf, her eerie yellow eyes narrowed.

"I am just collecting more elfroot for poultices, something useful instead of... playing in the water" replied Morrigan, motioning towards the creek.

Galion smirked, and extended his hand out to help Morrigan stand up. The witch grudgingly accepted, then Galion pointed down at the tussock of elfroot which she'd ripped the heart out of. He chanted softly in elvish, using his free hand close to the elfroot. Morrigan could feel the spell working through Galion's other hand, which she still held, and she clasped her free hand around the first. The clump of elfroot began to shimmer and wobble, as sprouts and leaders appeared and grew at a rapid pace, like nature was working at high speed. In a few seconds, perhaps four weeks worth of growth had happened on the elfroot, and it was as if Morrigan had not even harvested anything. She looked on, impressed by both the utility of the spell, and the raw power which she'd felt through Galion's hand.

"You can do this with any plant?" asked the witch.

"Almost any plant. It uses a good amount of mana, as you probably felt" replied Galion. "Let's head back to camp, Morrigan."

Galion pulled the witch towards him, and they walked together back up to the camp. Morrigan had noticed that Galion hadn't let go of her hand, but she did not mind.

-oo-

Sten let out a contented sigh as he put down his now-empty plate. The warden and the witch had prepared a large amount of roast boar, and used roots and apples to enhance the flavour of the meat. Even Alistair had had his fill, whom the qunari had noticed surpassed his own appetite more often than not. He studied the warden sitting across the campfire in front of him, engrossed in a book. He was a bas - a foreigner, but he had taken the time to make sure that Sten was physically fit. He'd even hunted up special berries and roots which would replace the vital minerals he had lost while in that damned crow cage. They tasted nasty, but Sten swallowed them without comment. Sure enough, he did feel stronger and faster now than he did that first night after being released. The other thing that confused him about this warden was that he was a mage. Mages were dangerous, like the witch. She was a textbook example of dangerous. But the warden, no. He was different. He healed, he rejuvinated and he cast light. Even Sten had admitted that the little flares that Galion sometimes plopped around the camp were useful. He'd also seen Galion call forth roots and vines to trap, strangle and crush darkspawn, and once or twice he'd used light to slice into his foes, but they were a rarity. Could it be because he was Dalish, Sten wondered?

Galion had spoken to Sten about how he was captured and held at Lothering, and he'd pulled Sten to one side yesterday morning, telling him that they would be going past the place where he fought the darkspawn on their way to Kinloch Hold, where the Mage tower was situated. Sten had wondered why the elf would bring this up, but he'd mentioned that there might be a chance of recovering Sten's sword. At this Sten had brightened (in his own way) and thanked the warden. They might be empty words, but they were comforting, all the same.

-oo-

Galion put his book away for the night and went back to the campfire. Bodahn had found some very coarse steel mesh, drawn from wires as thick as a pine needle. With Alistair's help, he'd made a crude rack which was now sitting above one end of the campfire. Galion collected his daggers and went over to Alistair, passing him one of the honed dar'misu. Alistair smirked, he knew what they'd be doing for the next hour or so. Galion cast a flare and put it up in a branch above them, bathing the campfire in a cheery glow. Alistair, meanwhile, had retrieved the boar carcass and placed it on the stumps beside the fire. Both wardens began the onerous task of slicing the boar meat into strips and placing them on the rack above the fire, while Sten raked the coals into a neat pile below. As the automatic work continued, Alistair asked "how long do you think that it will take us to find the Dalish, Galion?"

"Oh, not too long, Alistair. But we will talk to this 'first enchanter' at the Mage Tower tomorrow" replied the elf. "After that we will look for my people on the road to Denerim" he continued.

"I've been meaning to say this, Galion. You should be very careful tomorrow, there'll be plenty of Templars around who would just love to catch an apostate."

"I'm not the one who should be worried. Morrigan is probably more of a risk than I am. You see this" he indicated his facial tattoo, "this marks me as a Dalish, and the Templars have special rules for Dalish."

"Really? I didn't know about that" replied Alistair, absently slicing into his thumb with the dar'misu.

Galion cast a heal spell and Alistair's cut vanished. "Well, let me enlighten you" he began.

"It used to be that not too many decades after the second exalted march against the elvhen, the Templars of the Chantry would oft come into the Brecilian Forest and the adjoining lands, looking for Dalish Mages. The Templars were shemlen, flush with victory after their march. They had little in the way of woodcraft, and their armour and equipment was made for open battle, not forests. Each time they came close to a Dalish camp, they lost their way, and often they wandered many weeks without finding anything. But the Dalish knew where they were, and at night, when they slept, the Dalish would creep amongst them, re-arranging things here and there, emptying water skins and burning food. Sometimes they would use the blood of an animal to paint across the necks of the sleeping templars, such that when they woke, they were fearful. Soon the forest had a reputation as a maze, and Templars began to quake at the thought of venturing there.

Of course over time, the sheer number of Templars meant that they would sometimes catch a Mage. At times a Keeper, more often an apprentice was caught. When the elvhen was bound in their camp, the Templars would attempt to find their way back out, back to Denerim. The keeper would repeat one thing only - 'let me go, and ye shall live'. The first Templars simply laughed at this, and struck the elvhen, but each night, one of their group would disappear, never to be seen again. After a few nights, the surviving Templars, lost and fey from lack of sleep, nervous about who would survive - they'd cut the keeper or apprentice loose, and then the forest would come alive as perhaps twenty or thirty Dalish woodsmen would surround the Templars, and escort them back to the imperial road."

"So what happened to those survivors?" asked Alistair.

"I'm guessing that they told whoever needed telling, because after a decade or so, the Templars stopped coming. Now it is only once in a lifetime that they are seen, and they are often looking for something else, or simply lost" replied Galion.

"Why did the Dalish not simply kill the Templars?" asked Sten.

Galion chuckled, saying "which is smarter, Sten - to lure them in and make them never want to come back, or to make them disappear and have more of their friends come by to find them? Fear was our weapon, and it has served well."

Sten grunted, apparently satisfied with this answer.

Alistair bent back to his task of slicing up the meat, lost in thought about how tomorrow would play out.


	6. Pride comes before a Fall

_A/N: This piece covers the events in the Circle of Magi, where Galion and his companions endeavour to obtain the aid of the Circle Mages. Things are not straightforward, and the group discovers the darker side of magic._

-ooOOoo-

_**Chapter 6**_

_**Pride comes before a Fall **_

-ooOOoo-

Knight-Commander Greagoir was in a foul mood. In the last two weeks he had seen a blood mage escape from the tower, destroying his phylactery in the process. Fortunately his accomplices had been caught and dealt with swiftly. Later, the small contingent of Mages that returned from the battle at Ostagar had arrived, and then last week all hell broke loose. He was fortunate to be alive, all things considered. He was still trying to piece together exactly what had happened, but the presence of abominations walking the halls alongside demons and thralls made it abundantly clear that something very bad had ocurred to someone very powerful. He ran his gauntleted hand through his grey hair and turned back to face the elf in his tower, cupping his bearded chin in his hand.

A Dalish elf, and Grey Warden to boot. It seemed that the Maker had a sense of humour, because this particular elf was also a Mage, one of the rarest of the rare, a Dalish mage. He looked at his companions - a templar (good, thought Greagoir), a redhead who looked like a dancer, a qunari, a mabari, and then there was that dark-haired woman who dressed like a Denerim whore. He felt out with his Templar abilities towards her, and she glanced up, her amber eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a silent snarl. "Another bloody apostate" thought Greagoir.

"What is this 'Rite of Annulment', Knight-Commander?" asked Galion.

At least the elf showed a bit of respect for his rank, thought Greagoir. "It gives me the authority to purge the entire tower. I sent for it two days ago" he replied.

"Wait - 'purge' the tower? You mean kill any survivors?" asked the elf.

"By the time the word comes back, there probably won't be any survivors" muttered the Knight-Commander.

"Is that not a little drastic, even for a _Templar_?" said the dark haired woman, practically spitting out the last word.

Greagoir ignored the witch, and addressed Alistair and Galion. "It is too much to hope for survivors. But, if by some miracle the First Enchanter lives, then I will guarantee you that the Rite will not be enacted. You have a few days to determine your course of action."

Alistair was about to say something, but Galion spoke first. "We'll go in, find the First Enchanter and look for survivors. We must have these mages' support against the blight."

"I was about to say something similar, Galion" mumbled Alistair in a quiet voice only the elf could hear.

"So be it. May the Maker guide your steps" said Greagoir. He directed the Templars standing close to the inner doors to let the party through once they were ready. Leliana and Alistair spoke to the Templar quartermaster, who was very anxious, but seemed happy enough to trade with them. Having found some rations and a few extra water skins, along with lyrium potions and health poultices, the group approached the inner doors with some anxiety. The templars allowed them to pass within, and the doors heaved shut with a dull thud, sounding like the closing of a tomb.

Strangely enough, after the dire predictions of the Knight-Commander, the coast was clear for the first quarter hour. Galion was unsure what to make of the quiet. Maybe they were being led into a trap. Maybe someone had survived and had killed off whatever was causing the troubles here.

Morrigan touched the elf's elbow, causing him to look towards her. "Warden, I have a request" she whispered.

"Oh? What is it?" whispered Galion.

"Some time ago, my mother had a book stolen from her by a very tenacious Templar. It makes sense that it would have found its' way here, to this tower" said the witch.

"What sort of book, Morrigan?"

"It is a book of spells. It is of similar size to your own book, although thinner. The cover is black with a leafless tree stencilled into it."

"I'll keep an eye out for it, Morrigan. This is probably the best opportunity we're likely to get to see what is in this tower, don't you agree?"

The witch nodded, smiling at the elf.

-oo-

On the second floor, past a few empty rooms, the group could see a flickering bluish glow. Silently they readied their weapons, with Alistair and Sten up front and the others spaced behind. They crept forward, not quite soundless due to Alistair's armour clanking and Sten's heavy footfalls. As they moved closer the glow intensified, and shadows could be seen flitting across the ground in front of them. Somewhere up ahead, a roar could be heard, followed by the familiar hiss of an ice based spell, something Morrigan was quick to notice. "Twould seem to be someone casting ice spells up ahead, perhaps one of the mages has survived?" she whispered. Alistair nodded and advanced, with Sten covering his flank, and they rounded a pillar to see a group of mages, complete with apprentices and children. What looked like a column of steam was dissipating from close to the source of the blue-tinged light, a glowing barrier across the doorway on the far side of the room. Evidently the ice spell had done its' work, as the mages had slung their staves across their backs.

Turning towards them, a mage in red robes addressed the newcomers with "not one more step! If you come any closer I'll strike you down!" Galion and Alistair visibly relaxed as they recognised Wynne, the elderly mage they'd chatted with briefly at Ostagar, back in chapter 3. Morrigan smirked, thinking the mage's threat would be more effective if she didn't look like she was about to collapse at any minute.

"Wynne! You remember us, from Ostagar?" said Galion, pushing past Alistair and Sten, with his hands spread out in a peaceful gesture.

Wynne took a breath and smiled. "So some Wardens did survive after all. We thought Loghain's treachery had doomed your order."

"It was a close thing, Wynne" said Alistair. "But enough of that, what's happening here?"

"I'll tell you all, but first answer something for me - what of Greagoir and the Templars, what are they doing beyond the doors?"

"They are doing as all Templars do, quivering like little children" spat Morrigan, wandering over to the portal to examine it.

"Who is this person, Wardens?"

"That's Morrigan, daughter of Flemeth, witch of the wilds" indicated Galion. "This is Sten, Leliana, and the four legged one is Baran" he continued, gesturing to each in turn.

Wynne glowered at the witch, but nodded at the qunari and bard.

"Greagoir has sent for a Rite of Annulment, two days ago" said Galion. "His templars are waiting for reinforcements, as far as I can tell."

"We have only a small amount of time, Wynne. Tell us what happened here" said Alistair.

Wynne proceeded to tell her tale of the events which occurred after the Mages returned from the debacle of Ostagar. As she did so, the group unslung some water skins and rations, and distributed them to the hungry mages.

Most of the Mages who were at Ostagar returned soon after the battle was lost. Amongst them was Uldred, a prominent member of a sect of mages, Libertarians, who had long wanted more autonomy from the Templars. Unbeknownst to the majority of the senior mages, he'd struck up a deal with General Loghain which would ensure that he'd get that autonomy. In exchange, he'd back Loghain's claim for the regency of Ferelden, as his son-in-law, the king, was now slain on the field of Ostagar.

Now Wynne was not privy to the early meetings of the senior mages, where the wrangling for support had taken place. As a powerful healer, she'd been assisting the army and was delayed by a couple of days. When she did return, she met with First Enchanter Irving, and told him about how Loghain had given the retreat order to his forces, effectively dooming the King and the Grey Wardens, along with a large number of royal troops. This was a fairly important piece of information that Uldred had left out of the discussion, and Irving returned to the meeting while Wynne rested in her chamber.

"And that was the last I saw of Irving. Three nights ago he went up to that meeting and not long after that everything changed" she concluded.

Galion pondered this for a minute, while Alistair waited. "So, the demons and abominations the Knight Commander spoke of started appearing then?"

Wynne nodded.

"Something has to be summoning them. Can Uldred be possessed, perhaps? Some powerful demon might be able to cause all this mess" mumbled Galion, out loud.

"Tis blood magic at work here, Warden. One demon, no matter how powerful, could not have stood against so many mages, even if they do profess to be senior" said Morrigan.

"I worked many years to become a senior mage, you would do well to remember that, young woman" snapped Wynne.

"Yes. _Many_ years indeed" shot back the witch.

"Enough!" said Galion. "We have two choices here. We can go in, find this Senior Enchanter Irving, or we can wait for the Templars to come in and do their thing."

"If you do go further in, you will need my help. I will be able to guide you through the tower and up to the upper levels where I last spoke to Irving" said Wynne.

"Well, I know I probably speak for Morrigan here, and no offence to Alistair, but I would rather not give those Templar bastards the satisfaction of wiping out these mages. We should go in" said Galion.

Alistair grinned at the Dalish, saying "I agree. We should be moving quickly."

Morrigan scowled, annoyed at having to have Wynne along, but agreeing with Galion about the Templars. She continued to tap her staff on the portal, sending ripples across it. While Sten and Alistair rearranged a small pack for Wynne, Galion pulled Leliana off to one side.

"Leliana, I would like you to stay down here with Baran and help protect these mages. If we don't make it back in a couple of days, try to get them out of the exit."

The bard pouted, saying "I was hoping to come along with you, but very well." She sighed and glanced over at Baran, who had been enjoying playing with the few children in the chamber.

"Stay, boy. Guard Leliana!" said the elf to Baran, who wuffed and went back to enjoying being scratched by some magelings.

-oo-

"Damn, it's quiet, Wynne. Where are all the other mages?" asked Alistair.

"It's hard to say, Alistair. Many may be simply hiding, scared out of their wits. It's the ones we do see that worry me more."

Galion, who had been up front, said "you may get your wish yet, Alistair. I can hear someone up ahead."

The elven Warden was correct, and by standing close to a doorway, the group could make out snatches of conversation, which seemed to be centered on getting some gold and valuables and getting the hell out of the tower. Galion peeped quickly around the door jamb and saw three mages, two with their backs to the doorway. He held up three fingers as a signal to Sten and Morrigan, who had been sulking at the back of the group. Maybe some gratuitous violence would cheer her up, thought Galion. As if reading his thoughts, the witch pushed up to the front and began to warm up her Chain Lightning spell. Knowing he didn't have long before the witch fired off her spell, Galion ducked down and slid to the open centre of the doorway, casting a blinding light from his staff, directed at the three mages. It certainly got their attention, even though it did not do quite what Galion had intended. The rearmost mage was dazzled by the light, which temporarily blinded him. His colleagues were facing away from the flash so they only caught it in the periphery of their vision, not enough to dazzle them. As they spun around and focused on Galion, Morrigan edged into the doorway and let fly her powerful Chain Lighning spell. It hit the first mage dead on, and blew him backwards into a bookshelf, sending papers and books flying, and blowing out both of his eyes with little puffs of blood. He collapsed to the ground, dead. The lightning arced across to the rearmost mage and stunned him, but fizzled out on hitting the third, giving her no more than a small shock.

This mage was not going down without a fight. She whipped out a dagger and sliced open her palm, then thrust forwards, sending gouts of magically charged blood across the room like arrows. Standing in the doorway, Morrigan caught a few of the blood droplets, which hit like punches. She staggered back, momentarily disgusted by what had just hit her. Alistair pushed forwards into the doorway, and taking in the scene in a glance, he drew his sword and dropped his shield into an advancing posture. The Chantry crest on the shield was not lost in the mage, who gulped. Alistair marched forwards at a steady pace, murmuring a warding prayer as he advanced, with Sten falling in behind. The mage fired a couple more blood barrages, but Alistair's Templar abilities meant that she might as well have been sneezing at him. She backed up and bumped into her stunned comrade who seemed to break out of his reverie. Sten peeled out from behind Alistair and whipped his sword out with surprising speed for a giant, catching the drowsy mage right through his ribcage. Alistair punched forwards with his shield, smashing the female mage down to the flagstones. The mage splayed out her palms on the ground and lowered her head, whimpering. Galion took a breath, wondering what Alistair would do. "_Do it. She's a blood mage, do it!_" he thought.

"Mercy" mumbled the mage, looking up at Alistair, and noting Wynne had entered the room. Sten looked at the Templar and lowered his sword, making a point of not sheathing it.

"You're a _blood mage_, and you expect mercy?" spat Alistair.

"Wynne knows what it was like here. She knows about the Templars - always there, always watching. One mistake, and..."

"How dare you!" said Wynne. "The Templars had a function to fulfil. By resorting to this blood magic, you've simply handed them an excuse to wipe out everyone in this tower. The innocent and the guilty alike shall be culled because of your stupidity!"

"Please, I can stop. I don't have to use blood magic" the mage wailed.

"Like Surana, you mean? She hadn't even been a full mage for a day, and for just helping a blood mage, they strung her up!" said Wynne.

The mage sniffed and whimpered again.

Galion tapped his staff on Alistair's boot, and attracting his attention, gave a small nod towards the prostrate mage. Alistair took a breath, and raised his sword. An eerie red glow began below the mage. While prone, her hand had been bleeding, and now the trickle of blood erupted into tendrils which flicked upwards, lancing into Alistair's leg armour. The steel plates buckled as the strands of blood twisted them like red ivy wrapped around a pole. The mage looked up again, all trace of humanity gone as her eyes were pure black. Blood ran down her face and flowed out towards the Templar as she chanted an unholy dirge. Sten was thrown back by a pulse of power and Alistair had to grit his teeth to stop himself passing out from the pain, as he collapsed onto his knees before the blood mage. Galion, seeing this, brought his staff down hard on the head of the mage, making a sound like a butcher splitting a piece of meat. He was already chanting, and from point blank range he cast his searing light spell, which vapourised the head and top half of the backbone of the mage, continuing out her back before leaving a char mark in the ground. The body twitched a couple of times and was still, with the tendrils of blood returning to normal and dropping back to the floor.

Galion gripped Alistair's shoulder and helped the Templar to his feet. His legplates were buckled, and Wynne washed a healing spell over Alistair and Sten, who had struggled back to his feet, grumbling about bloody blood mages.

"There is a lesson to be learned here. To haggle with a blood mage is a dangerous game. Were there fewer of us, we may not have won the day" said Morrigan, standing in the doorway with a curious look in her eyes. Galion looked over at her and nodded sombrely.

"Your young companion is right. I should not have spoken to this one. It bought her time to bring a powerful spell to bear, and I am truly sorry" said Wynne.

"Then the lesson is learned, and we continue the wiser for it. Come, come! We have many stairs to climb!" said Morrigan, brightly.

-oo-

They called a break when they found Owain in his store room. Owain was a tranquil mage, like the mages Galion had met at Ostagar – emotionless souls with a penchant for enchantments. He'd told them about a mage called Niall who had come through there looking for a thing called the Litany of Adralla. This Litany acts as a ward against Blood Magic, and as Wynne explained this, Galion grimaced. Even the aloof mood of Morrigan soured, and she stomped off to look through Owain's stores. As it happened, the Tranquil mage had been tidying up a pile of shit in his storage area, and was scared in his own impassive way. While Morrigan nosed through the store room with Alistair, Sten sat down near the elven and human mages. "I need to know more about these blood mages, Warden. Why are they any different to other mages?" he asked.

"It's... well, they have a different set of skills to what you would call a normal mage" began Galion. "While myself, or Morrigan, or Wynne here – we all use energy or mana to focus and cast our spells. Over time we re-generate our energy pools and can cast anew. We can also use Lyrium to get a quick burst of mana should we need it."

"But Lyrium is dangerous to use extensively, and can be addictive if one is not careful" added Wynne.

"A blood mage, on the other hand, can do all we can, but in addition they can use their own blood to fuel spells, like you saw with that bitch downstairs. She sliced open her hand and was pulling power directly from herself, as you felt" continued the elf.

Sten unconsciously rubbed his back and nodded. "But this doesn't explain why they are regarded as dangerous" he said.

"A blood mage is capable of manipulating the blood of other people. More precisely, using that control to direct their actions" said Wynne.

"Mind control" mumbled Galion.

"You see, Sten. A highly placed blood mage could influence a king, or a general. They could cause a lot of havoc" concluded Wynne.

"But that's not all, Sten. A blood mage doesn't have to use their blood, oh no. With a bit of practice and concentration, they can use anyone nearby as their blood 'source', so to speak. What that means is, as long as there are foes standing, they will never run out of a source for their spells' power."

Wynne nodded. "Give them a small healing spell, and you have an almost invincible mage who can win by attrition against all foes that have blood in their veins."

Sten nodded quietly. "How is this knowledge acquired?" he asked.

Galion shrugged. "Demons, probably. There may be books on it but I don't know of any."

"It may be passed from master to pupil, or as the Warden says, learned directly in a pact with a demon" said the elderly mage.

Sten stood, towering over the two mages. "Thank you Warden" he said, nodding at Galion and then again at Wynne.

-oo-

For the ninth time that day, Galion cursed the person who had decided that the Mages had to live in a tower. After parting with Owain, they'd headed upwards, round and round this cursed tower. They began to run into gibbering horrors of abominations. These were once people – be it human or elf, it didn't really matter. The end result was a complete mess of meat with legs and a bad attitude. Interestingly enough, for powerful mages, they were certainly stupid. They loved to engage in hand to hand combat, and they always seemed to pick Alistair as their target. The first couple of times he thought it was a coincidence, but now he was sure he had some sort of magical attraction for them. Catnip for abominations, as he put it. Of course as the most heavily armoured in the group, he could take a pounding, and his companions picked off the abominations with relative ease.

After the first abomination fell, the group were just sheathing their weapons and getting ready to move on. They heard a sort of tinny whistling noise, and smelled a sulphurous odour emanating from the body of the abomination. Paying it no mind, they were quite surprised when it exploded, leaving behind nothing. No bones, no clothing, not even some dust.

Galion was wondering about this when they found a door leading to the centre of the current floor they were on. Some flickers of light could be seen under the crack at the bottom of the door. He signalled to Morrigan, who was closest, and indicated the door. She nodded and hefted her staff, ready to go. Kicking the door ajar, Galion was surprised by a Templar just standing there vacantly staring into space. There was a second figure circling him, and at first Galion thought it was one of the female mages, finally free of inhibitions and about to have it off with the Templar. Then he noticed the female figure had prominent horns on her head, and a tail dangling down from above her bum. A demon.

"What is going on here, demon?" he asked, momentarily taken aback.

The demon looked over at Galion and Morrigan with eerie black eyes. Her sibilant hiss carried towards the mages as she spoke, saying "you are disturbing a loving, intimate moment, and I dislike interruptions."

"Doesn't look very intimate to me" mumbled Galion to Morrigan, who grinned. "Have you bewitched that guy? The Templar?" he asked.

The demon stopped and looked at Galion, cupping her practically naked breasts for a second or two, then answered "true happiness is bewitching. Before I came, he had never known happiness. I found his desire for a wife and family, and granted his wish. There is no harm in what I do."

"_A desire demon. Middlemen in the demon heirarchy_" thought Galion. "Is he aware of us?" he asked.

"Not unless I wish him to be. I do not" replied the demon. "We are joined. We share thoughts. He experiences a loving wife and children, and through him, I experience what it is like to be mortal" she continued.

"So do you think you're actually doing a good thing?" asked Morrigan.

"Yes. This man did not know himself, and now, his thoughts are only of happiness and comfort. I suggest that this is a good state to be in, when compared to the other residents of this place, whom you have no doubt met." The demon pointed out the flecks of gore on Morrigan's boots.

"Alright. We will leave you be, as long as you promise the same" said Galion.

The demon smirked and inclined its head a fraction. "I will do this. I vow not to harm thee, or thy companions. You have my gratitude, for what it is worth."

Backing out of the room, Galion bundled Morrigan out and shut the door behind him. Sten and Wynne were waiting outside, oblivious to the exchange. "Let's move on" said Wynne, anxious to learn anything about the fates of her colleagues. "The meeting was up in the Harrowing chamber, which is only another two floors above us" she said, indicating a doorway towards the centre of the current floor.

-oo-

Galion yawned and stretched luxuriously, feeling his spine crackle. He wondered how long he'd slept, and glanced up at the sky. The greenish tinge to the clouds filtered down to the landscape, a grassy hillock amongst a verdant forest. Heaving himself to his feet, he followed his trail through the knee-high grass, enjoying the scent of bacon as he pressed the grass underfoot. "_Bacon? That was odd_" he thought. The trail led down into the forest, and Galion found a small campfire with blue flames, crackling away merrily, with a couple of pots set beside it. A figure was hunched over the fire, and as he approached, the figure straightened up and turned around. "Welcome, friend!" he said.

"Duncan?"

"Yes, it is I. Welcome, Galion" said Duncan, smiling at the elf.

"This can't be! We saw the battle – Flemeth said you were dead, along with the shemlen king."

"Dead? Preposterous. Here I stand, as you can see. All is set right, and the darkspawn have been routed. The Archdemon lies dead. Can't you remember any of this?"

Galion felt woozy, unsure what to make of this. He concentrated and tried to clear his thoughts. "Duncan, that fire is blue" he mumbled.

"It's Ironbark. The wood burns blue, you know this."

"The sky is green - what is this place?"

Duncan fidgeted, stroking his beard, before offering "you must have hit your head again. A rest is what you need. Just have some sleep and you will feel rain as right in a while."

"_Rain as right?_" thought Galion. "_Something is off here. And the grass... something is messing with my memories_"

Galion closed his eyes and calmed his thoughts. He blocked out everything that he could, leaving nothing but himself. "_Aha! A demon holds me. Not just me, though. The others are all held too. This must be a powerful demon that holds us... sleep and contentment are the realm of Sloth, one of the upper echelon demons_" he thought.

He slowly opened his eyes, wincing a little as the scene blurred and changed into a run-down ruin, quite similar to the one he and Tamlen had investigated in what seemed like another lifetime. The Duncan impostor was still there, but instead of a placid half smile, it now bellowed with rage and ran at Galion, drawing its' swords. "Fool!" it roared. "You have perfection here, and yet you would throw it all away?"

Galion ducked out of range of the maddened creature, flicking out his staff as he moved. The creature whirled and tried to run again, its clumsy flailing of swords only a bad parody of the real Duncan. Galion waited until the last second, letting the creature build up speed, then used his staff like a club, pounding the creature in the head. Such was the force of the impact that the neck of the creature snapped backwards, and it collapsed to the ground before shimmering and disappearing.

A column of light appeared roughly where the campfire had been, and where it met the ground, a pedestal rose up. All around Galion the ground erupted with a glowing pictogram. It reminded him of a ward that had been scribbled on the ground... or a map! He looked at the pedestal. On the upper surface there was a set of bulbous protrusions which could be twisted, he observed. There was a small overlay on the upper surface which corresponded a little with the larger map on the ground. Taking an educated guess, he adjusted the knobs on the pedestal and set them to what he thought was the origin, then pushed in the central button.

The air shimmered and he was transported to another wrecked landscape, but this time there was a figure close at hand, kneeling down and looking at the glowing lines on the ground. The man looked around as Galion appeared, and the elf saw that he was a dark-haired human, dressed in mage robes. "What's this? Another fly in the web, it seems" he sighed.

"Who are you?" asked Galion.

"My name is Niall, one of the Circle Mages. Who are you, exactly? I can't recall having seen you at the tower, but your equipment suggests you're a mage" he replied.

"I'm not a mage of any Circle. My name is Galion, and I'm a Grey Warden. A Dalish, if you must know."

"Grey Wardens here in the tower? Then you encountered the same demon that I did, otherwise you wouldn't be stuck here."

Galion's brow furrowed as pieces of his memory began to snap back into place. "I remember now... we walked into a room, and this demon was just standing there. It must have been a Sloth demon, quite powerful to knock out three mages and a Templar" murmurred Galion. "Owain mentioned you" he said, turning back to Niall. "He said you had the Litany of Adralla to use against blood mages."

"Yes, that's correct. I'd collected it from Owain and was on my way to the Harrowing Chamber to use it against Uldred, the source of all this mayhem. But I ran into a Sloth Demon, as you did, and here we remain – trapped."

Galion looked over at the runes on the ground where Niall had been looking before. "Have you discovered anything about this place?"

"Some, but not much. This place is laid out like a cobweb, with magical paths to the central island. At each node there's a minor demon – rage or desire or some lower rank – and they would need to be defeated to unlock the route to the centre, where no doubt the Sloth Demon holds power."

"I came with four companions. Would they be trapped on these nodes?"

"It seems likely. If you were to free them somehow, then it should weaken the demon, as it would have to expend more will to hold onto them. Once all of them are freed, you would need to defeat the Sloth Demon to win back freedom and consciousness" said Niall.

"I shall try this then. Can you help me at all? Are you able to travel?"

"Alas, I can't. My form is losing coherence by the hour. I fear I'll not survive this adventure even if you are able to kill the demon."

"You're remarkably calm about it!" said Galion, surprised.

"Aye. Well, I've had some time to come to grips with it. I can, however, help you with some spells. Things work a little differently here. I am able to enhance a spell for you without the normal learning and practice you'd need. All those years studying Spirit and Entropy schools paid off in the end."

Niall raised one hand and closed his eyes, casting a strange light blue light from his outstretched hand. Galion saw the glow lengthen and snake across to his chest. Niall opened his eyes, and said "you have an interesting set of spells, Galion. I can't identify many of them. There is one which you have used recently, and when you did it sapped all of your energy and knocked you out."

"Nova? What of it?" queried Galion.

"I can teach you how to funnel that spell into a column, concentrating its' damage along one axis and using only a fraction of your energy. Would you benefit from that?"

Galion thought for a moment. As a last gasp spell, it certainly did as advertised, but it was as much a danger to his friends as his foes. "Yes, that would be useful" he said.

Niall nodded and closed his eyes again. The glow pulsed and then shrank back from his hand, as Galion absorbed the blue light into his chest. The mage slumped to the ground, and Galion knelt beside him. "That's about as much as I can do for now, Warden. Give me a bit of time and I'll be alright. You go free your friends" panted Niall, exhausted.

Galion stood up and squared his shoulders, then went to the pedestal and copied another set of symbols from the ground. Punching the centre button, the air shimmered and he disappeared, while Niall fell asleep.

-oo-

For the next few hours, Galion travelled back and forth across the nightmare landscape of the Sloth Demon's illusion. Niall had correctly identified the source of the disturbances which held each of his companions trapped. Lieutenant demons, large numbers of trapped and hostile mages, even trapped Templars were all pitted against Galion as he steadily made progress. While he was in-between fights with these seemingly random entities, he came across several friendly mages. They each taught him a skill in a similar way to Niall. However, instead of modifying an existing spell, they granted him some shapeshifting skills, which let him get past obstacles that would otherwise have been quite a quandry.

Each of Galions companions was caught in their own nightmare. Remarkably, even a skilled mage like Wynne had lacked the ability to spot that her tormentors were demons, and fairly inconsequential ones at that. It took Galion to persuade her to focus on why she was there, and soon she was able to break free, just as Galion had managed by himself some time earlier.

Morrigan was aware she was trapped in the dream world, but was held by a demon which was trying to imitate her mother. Galion felt a twinge of panic when the demon belted Morrigan across the face, a blow that might have rattled teeth in the real world. The warden used his enhanced Nova for the first time, and not only blew the demon completely to bits, but vapourised a large circle of rock and a couple of stone pillars that were standing behind it. "Hmmph. You've been busy, Warden!" smirked Morrigan, shortly before disappearing off into the aether.

Sten was also aware of his surroundings to some degree. He knew he was in a dream at least. When Galion appeared, Sten roused himelf from his torpor and set to work killing his tormentors, with assistance from Galion. What worried Galion was how easily Sten could have just wasted away in a pointless dream. It seemed to be a common theme amongst his companions.

Finally Galion found Alistair, and his fellow Grey Warden introduced him to an entity he had identified as his sister. Galion made a mental note to ask Alistair if he had a sister once they got out of this mess. Alistair's sister-demon and his nephew demonlings were no match for the pair of Grey Wardens, and Alistair was rightly indignant that a demon had poked so far into his deepest thoughts and memories.

After Galion had freed each of his comrades, they had shimmered and disappeared of into nothingness. Galion was banking on them being in a kind of holding pen, and when he found the demon behind this nightmare, they'd be able to help him out. For now, he returned to Niall, to see how the fast-fading mage was getting on.

Niall had recovered a little, and told Galion about what he had observed during his fights with the various underlings that held his friends. "You see these points on the outer ring of the map stylus?" he said, indicating the edge of the glowing map beneath him. Galion nodded and Niall continued "when you fought the demons there, the runes beside them changed for a short time, and they glowed a lot more intensely. It was as if something was shunting power into those points."

"But they are very faint now" ventured Galion.

"Indeed – you have removed a conduit that the Sloth Demon has had to maintain. I believe we have reached an impasse as far as strength goes. For now, the Demon does not have to maintain any underlings. Consequently it has more power to burn when you fight it. Conversely, it no longer holds your friends, and so it will struggle to maintain a grip on all of us trapped here" he concluded.

"So, we have to force it into a confrontation to break the stalemate?" asked Galion.

"Yes, Warden. Your friends should be able to assist you, as they are now free entities here. I will hold open the transportation apparatus here, and that should, in theory, prevent the Sloth Demon from calling in any help."

"Are you up to it?" queried the elf.

"I will have to be, Warden. I know I won't last much longer. You must get out of here. Get the Litany of Adralla from my body once you have bested the Sloth Demon. Now, come on. Time is short!" said Niall, pacing towards the pedestal.

Galion rode across the nightmare landscape for the last time while Niall held open the device. The Warden saw what must be the Sloth Demon, loitering in the centre of a shallow crater. Swallowing nervously, Galion walked towards the demon, but was surprised halfway there by his friends appearing, one by one. Time was short, and rather than waste what little they had in conversation, Galion simply let fly his upgraded Nova spell, which sizzled and blasted off a chunk of the demon's chest, cleaving off one arm, which flailed uselessly on the ground. The demon laughed, and raising its' good arm, it changed form into a mighty ogre. "Foolish mortals! You think a flesh wound matters here when I control the very rock you walk on?" it bellowed, lowering it's head to charge at Alistair. Alistair sidestepped at the last second, but the ogre's trailing arm flicked him about and caused him to lose his footing. Sten quickly hammered the pommel of his greatsword into the ogre's skull, giving the group a couple of seconds to get organised. Morrigan and Wynne split up and moved back, with Wynne throwing a temporary rejuvination spell at Alistair. Galion backed off as well, but remembered that he could probably still use the shape shifting spells he'd picked up earlier. Clearing his mind, he changed form into a Golem, and using his rock fists like sledgehammers, proceeded to pound against the backbone of the ogre, pulling its' attention away from Alistair, who had been using his shield to block the ogre's blows. While Galion held the ogre's attention, Sten sliced at the tendons in its' legs, aiming to hobble the monster. Galion parried a vicious swipe from the ogre, then followed up with a perfect uppecut that would make a boxer proud. In this golem form, he packed considerable bulk, and it was enough for the ogre to drop to its' knees.

A wave of air blasted out from the ogre, knocking everyone backwards except Wynne and Morrigan. It changed form again, this time into a burning hot rage demon. Morrigan smiled, and blasted it with her frost spells, the opposite nature of the spells causing incredible pain to the demon, which screeched and made a bee line for the witch. Wynne was ready, and powered a rock fist at the demon, knocking it flat while Morrigan sprinted out of the way. Galion cancelled his golem form and moved back, expecting the demon to change form as it did before, when the fight had gone out of it. Sten cautiously advanced, and prodded the burning form with the tip of his sword. The demon growled and sure enough, it pulsed with power and let another blast of air wash out in all directions. Sten staggered but held firm, and Alistair moved alongside his qunari comrade.

The demon had shifted into a humanoid form wearing robes, with a strange elongated headdress. Its' arms were bare, just sinewy knots like mariner's rope, and it appeared to hover a handspan above the ground. "Enough playing. Time to end this" it growled. It flung a barrage of ice at Sten and Alistair, causing welts and frostbite to immediately scar their exposed skin. Morrigan was caught with a strange bolt of no light, jet black in colour, which seemed to suck light in from its' surroundings. She staggered and fell backwards, thankfully out of sight. The demon turned its' attention to Wynne, holding one arm aloft and proceeding to suck energy from her. The old mage grimaced, and held up her staff, warding back the bulk of the spell, but pinning her in place. Galion aimed a precise blast of light from his staff at the demon, but he was aghast as it deflected off the demon's hide. "You cannot defeat me here. I control all the aspects of nature here, little one. Your light spells are worthless here" bragged the demon. He casually swung out with his other hand and caught Galion off balance, cuffing him to the ground, while all the time holding Wynne trapped. Alistair and Sten were beginning to thaw, but Galion feared his number might be up.

"That's good... I can sense your fear, little mage" sang the demon.

With a pulse of brilliant cyan light, Niall appeared a few paces from the demon. "Finally!" he said. Raising his staff, he blasted the demon with his Mana Clash spell. As one of the instructors in Spirit magic at the tower, he was a formidable caster of this particular spell. The results were spectacular. The demon let out a terrifying howl, and then imploded, sucking its' entire body mass into a small point, which then blew outwards in a flash of white light. Niall collapsed on the ground, panting.

Galion got to his feet and quickly cast a powerful group healing spell, which revived Alistair and Morrigan and repaired the frost scars on Sten's arms. He moved to Niall and knelt beside him. "Niall! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me, Warden. Remember the Litany – you must use it to defeat Uldred. It should be on my body back in the real world."

Galion nodded, clasping the hand of this brave human. "I'll do it. Thanks for saving us there."

Wynne knelt beside her colleague, her eyes wet as she knew he would not make it. There was no spell powerful enough to pull Niall back from the Fade now. "You see, Wynne? Look at the sky!" said Niall, gesturing upwards.

The others looked, and they could see that the sky was changing colour, the murky smoke-tinged green becoming brighter. Rivulets of white light appeared like cracks in a sheet of glass, propagating across the void as they became brighter. The distant rocks and floating islands began to glow and soon, one by one, they winked out. Soon the area below them was glowing too, and after a few seconds, the world erupted in white light. And then nothing.

_A/N: And there we place a break in the story, as it was getting quite lengthy. The fade section in Dragon Age seems to engender a sort of love-hate relationship with many players. There is enough scope in it to fiddle with various aspects – e.g. bacon grass – it is a dream world after all!_

_This chapter runs straight on to Chapter 7, I'll upload the pair of them together._


	7. A Book without Words

_A/N: Continuation of the previous Chapter. If you haven't read Chapter 6 yet, I suggest you take a look, as this chapter follows right on from it. The remaining short piece is set immediately after clearing the Mage Tower. Galion is looking for a second opinion on his druid book, hoping that other Mages might be able to shed some light on how it is presented._

-ooOOoo-

_**Chapter 7**_

_**A Book without Words**_

-ooOOoo-

"He was a brave man" said Galion, straightening up. At his feet, now with a serene look on his face, was Niall's body. Alistair, with Galion's help, had laid him out in Andrastian tradition. There would be time for a pyre later, but for now this would have to do. Galion commented that amongst the Dalish, they venerate the dead by burial and planting a tree over the grave. It symbolised the circle of life, flowing from the living to the dead and back again. Sten had merely grunted and stomped off to retrieve their packs and have some water. To the qunari, a corpse was a husk, devoid of life and only needing adequate disposal.

Wynne and Morrigan had been memorising the Litany of Adralla, which as Niall had said, was clutched in his dead fingers. The Litany was a short chant, which caused blood magic spells to fizzle out when the caster and target were in close proximity. Galion had already had a quick look at it, and he was going to memorise it once the women were ready. He had also tried to cast the shape shifting spells he had acquired in the Fade, but they didn't seem to work any more. His Nova spell did still work though, and he attracted a glare from Wynne and a snicker from Morrigan when he blew out a stained glass window testing his spell.

The higher they moved, the weirder the scenery became. Chunks of meat-like goop were scattered around the walls, some of it in large enough structures to present a barrier. Pillars were coated in the stuff, with pink shit dripping from the ceiling like melting wax. The group made a quick stop in the First Enchanter's office, as Wynne pointed it out to them. While Morrigan was looking at some of the artefacts and trinkets that Irving had collected (and pocketing a few that took her fancy), Wynne found Irving's supply of Lyrium potions and some large sized health poultices. Galion and Sten opened up a chest in one corner, and apart from a fairly nice water colour of a castle, Galion noticed a book that seemed to match the description of Morrigan's one. He pulled it out and had a closer look. Yes, a leafless tree stencilled onto black leather. He stuffed it into his pack quickly, not giving it much thought. Sten took the painting, citing a respect for the work of an artist. Galion wasn't going to poke fun at him. Back amongst his clan, he collected prefectly round river stones of different minerals. To each his own. Alistair looked at some of the titles of the books closest to him, sometimes muttering something about the Chantry, other times shaking his head in disbelief. After a few minutes of rest, they made their last preparations for meeting Uldred, as they only had to go upstairs, and the staircase was practically next door.

Alistair led the group through a doorway and they were greeted by a strange sight. After all of the demons, posessed templars, lunatic mages and abominations, here was a Templar, kneeling behind what looked to be a more powerful version of the barrier that Wynne had erected downstairs to keep the monsters at bay. Morrigan tapped the barrier, which rippled like water. This seemed to alert the Templar trapped inside, who stood up, gawking in disbelief at the strangers in front of him. "What's this? More visions come to tempt me? I'll not fall for this. I... will... remain... strong" he grunted, screwing his eyes shut tightly. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes again, which quickly widened in disbelief. "What trick is this? That worked every other time" he muttered.

"We're not visions or ghosts, you fool Templar" spat Morrigan.

"Who put you here? Was it Uldred?" asked Galion, moving closer to the barrier.

The Templar looked down at the elf in front of him and nodded. "Yes, Uldred is responsible. He's part of a coven of Blood Mages that have been twisting those in their power into those abominations, which you would no doubt have seen."

"Wynne, can you bring down this barrier?" asked Galion.

The old mage shook her head "no, Galion. These sort of barriers are reliant on the will of the caster only. I would venture that dealing with Uldred would bring it down."

Galion pondered this, then looked up at the crazed Templar. "We can't do anything for you, but anything you can tell us about what is upstairs will help us defeat Uldred, thus dropping this barrier and returning you to freedom."

"It's very simple, elf. Kill everything you see once you go up those stairs. All of them. Problem solved."

"All of them? Even the Mages? Even Irving?" gasped Wynne.

"His plan makes sense. Don't discount it out of hand" said Sten, his baritone voice unnaturally echoing around the room.

Galion shook his head, and even Morrigan closed her eyes pinched the bridge of her nose, as if dealing with a headache. "Alistair, please tell me that not all Templars are so... touched" said Galion. He whirled and faced Sten, taking the giant slightly aback. "And you! How can you have just been through what we've seen, and now want to eradicate the very thing we came here to get. A single Mage is worth fifty foot soldiers, and we are not just going to kill them all because of one demented Templar. Shame on you, Sten! I thought you had some grasp of military strategy!"

Sten simply shrugged and moved to the foot of the stairs, his mood unreadable. Wynne smiled and said "thank you, Warden. If some mages do survive, then they can be the seed around which a new Tower grows. And I am sure Irving is still alive, but we must not delay."

Alistair had remained quiet during this exchange, but moved over by Sten and motioned upwards. "Come on, there's nothing we can do for this guy. Let's finish this off, Galion."

-oo-

In the Harrowing Chamber, Uldred held court with his lackeys and some recalcitrant guests. A few mages were tied up in various places around the room, like scatter cushions. Senior Enchanter Irving was tied to a pedestal close to one edge of the central dais, and Uldred himself was standing with a couple of Abominations loitering beside him.

Uldred was always a fairly vain man. As he worked his way up to a Senior Enchanter, he'd never really had difficulty in picking up his spellcraft skills. He was always ahead of his fellows, and more often than not he was ahead of his mentors. With age, he branched out on his own, putting in considerable time cultivating contacts outside the circle. Teryn Loghain was one of his prized contacts, their mutual pragmatism helping one another from time to time. Uldred never bothered taking in a pupil, he never mentored. None of the students really measured up – except that Amell lad, and even he wasted his talents on Creation magic. As he grew older and more powerful, the only obstacle that prevented him from dominating the debate in the tower seemed to be Irving, and his unholy alliance with the Templar Greagoir. Irving's damn moderate views were not what was needed now! The mages needed to break the yoke that the Templars had shackled them with. Uldred was drawn, little by little, towards forbidden magics. By the time of the Battle of Ostagar, he had been communing with a Pride demon, which had promised him practically unlimited power in exchange for just a taste of the mortal world.

A taste for one person can be a banquet for another, and Uldred found that out when he merged with the Pride demon. His senses were constantly overloaded with sights, smells and sounds. The demon had granted him formidable strength and magical power, far beyond mere humans. But right now, Uldred was trying to determine what to do about this elven Grey Warden and his companions. For Galion stood facing him, with a Templar to one side, a Qunari on the other, and two mages behind. Wynne was one of them! He was going to enjoy breaking her. As for the other, he might indulge his human desires before turning her.

"It's no good, Galion. He's not the same man you saw at Ostagar" whispered Alistair.

Galion nodded. "So you are not going to release Irving?"

"I have made my offer, Warden. Join me or die!" snapped Uldred. "_This upstart mage won't stand a chance_" thought the Pride Demon inside him.

Galion said nothing, simply lowering his staff. Quick as a thought, he fired an intense blast of light directly at Uldred's face, hoping to maim him, blind him, or even blow his head off - anything to finish this fast. Uldred's enhanced abilities had granted him some resilience too, it seemed, as he merely grunted and sidestepped, with nothing but a nasty burn running across one cheek. Raising both arms, he grew larger and larger, his human form subsumed into a demonic shape. A towering Pride demon soon stood where Uldred had been, its' leathery skin reminding Alistair and Galion of the Ogre they fought in the Tower of Ishal.

The demon roared and called the two abominations, who made a bee line for Alistair. Sten jilted left then right, severing one abomination right through the gut. He kicked the larger half of the corpse towards the Uldred demon, then quickly ducked away from the rest of the body. Morrigan warmed up a lightning spell and planted it at full strength into the side of Uldred, eliciting a hiss of pain from the demon. Wynne kept throwing small heals at Alistair, all the while monitoring the fight to find the best time to chant the Litany of Adralla.

Alistair had blocked and parried off the clumsy abomination, using his shield to ram it into Uldred's path. Aiming a precision stab into the vitals of the abomination, he was rewarded with a gout of blood as the creature toppled to the floor, dead. Uldred swiped at Alistair, flicking his sword out of the Templar's grasp. As Uldred reared up to smash Alistair, Galion aimed a blast of his Nova spell directly as the middle of the demon. The spell flew like fire from the end of Galion's staff, blasting a sizeable hole in Uldred's torso. As tendrils of smoke wafted up from the wound, Uldred staggered backwards. Alistair advanced and used his Templar abilities to smite the demon, knocking Uldred down to his knees. Wynne darted over to Alistair's sword and flung it back towards him, the weapon clattering as it skidded along the ground.

The demon began a chant, directing one claw at a mage who was chained close by. "The Litany! Use it now!" screamed Wynne. Morrigan was closest to Uldred, and she quickly and efficiently recited the Litany of Adralla, which had the effect of knocking out the mage that Uldred had attempted to enthrall.

Alistair scooped up his sword, and noting that the Uldred demon was still recovering from his smite, he drove his sword into the demons' neck, right to the hilt. The demon roared and jerked up, knocking Alistair backwards. Sten charged in and aimed a powerful stroke upwards, slicing deep into the monster below its' ribcage. Ichor squirted out of the wound, forming a black smear on the ground and splashing the qunari's boots. Knowing the demon was mortally wounded, Galion and Morrigan both fired off their most powerful spells, aiming to end Uldred's life. Galion's spear of light lanced through the demon's face, blasting another chunk of demon flesh off. Morrigan's blast of cold froze the demon, and it fell to the ground, with some frozen bits cracking off on impact. The group heaved a collective sigh, and Alistair retrieved his sword from the corpse. He felt a wash of energy reinvigourate him, as Wynne simply cast a broad heal over the entire group.

-oo-

Irving was still shaken from the experience up in the Harrowing Chamber. He gratefully accepted some food from Galion, having had nothing for a couple of days. As he learned of the exploits of the Wardens and their friends, they moved back downstairs, picking up the crazed Templar, Cullen, along the way. When they reached the lower chamber where Wynne had left the children, along with Leliana and the mabari Baran, they found that several other mages had come out of hiding as they passed by, using the opportunity to get back downstairs safely.

Leliana was very pleased to see her companions all hale and hearty, and when Wynne announced that she'd like to travel along with the Wardens, she was happy to have someone new to chat to. Morrigan was less than impressed, and Galion had a quiet talk with her, out of earshot from the others. "You've seen her healing, it's quite good" suggested Galion.

"Truthfully, Warden, yours is better. I have no real qualms having her join us, but I fear that she may slow us down, or nag us to do unnecessary tasks instead of concentrating on the treaties" said Morrigan.

"Well, we can see after a couple of weeks. We have to go to Denerim sooner or later, and if need be we can leave her there."

"Fine. That will do" scowled the witch.

"Cheer up, Morrigan. Look, I found this while we were upstairs" said Galion, fishing out Flemeth's spell book from his pack.

"You did! Oh, this is wonderful!" cried Morrigan, beaming at the elf.

Galion handed her the book carefully, and she immediately began to thumb through it, wandering off. The elf chuckled and went over to talk to Irving.

"Warden, you have saved us all, and we owe you a great deal. Let me say formally, that the Mages will uphold their treaty with the Grey Wardens and deliver aid when they ask for it. Greagoir shall bear witness to this" added Irving, turning towards the Templar Commander.

"I shall. When the time comes, we shall render aid and resources to get the mages to wherever they are required. I will also send word to Denerim to this effect, making it an offical pronouncement of the Chantry" said Greagoir. "You've done well, Warden. The Tower now offers you its' hospitality, and should you need any supplies, we shall do our best to accommodate you."

"Thank you, Irving. Knight-Commander" said Galion, giving a short bow to each in turn.

-oo-

The following morning, Wynne sat quietly in the First Enchanter's office with Galion and Alistair. Irving was studying an unfamiliar book which the elven Grey Warden had placed on his desk. It was only one day since the tower had been cleansed of the abomination filth. Even now, Wynne could hear pairs of Templars stomping around outside, with occasional grunts and scraping noises as they cleaned up the bulbous, fleshy, sac-like structures that had dotted the halls. She looked at the elf mage. Clearly an apostate - as a Dalish, the Knight Commander begrudgingly had granted him a kind of amnesty while at the tower. The fact that Greagoir was not really in a position to harm Galion was not lost on Wynne. Galion and his group had arrived in the nick of time and pulled Greagoir's arse from the fire, and Greagoir's apparent magnaminous gesture was his way of thanking the elf.

"Wynne, have a look at this and tell me what you see" said Irving, gesturing towards the book.

Wynne got up and moved to the empty end of the desk, looking over at the book. She saw that there was some text visible, but she couldn't identify it. As she tried to focus on the lettering, the text would swim and fade in and out of focus. She gasped and looked up at Irving. "I can't focus in it - it looks like elvish but when I try to read, the lettering changes in front of me."

Irving nodded and said "it is the same with me. But Galion, you say that for you the text is solid, like any of these books around you" he gestured to his own impressive library.

"Yes - but you can actually see _something_?" asked Galion.

Alistair spoke up "there's only one other in our group who can make out any of the book's contents. Morrigan."

"She was the wilder witch who you had with you yesterday?" asked Irving.

"That's her" said Alistair.

"What do you see, Alistair?" asked Irving.

"Blank. I see nothing but blank pages. At first when Galion showed it to me, I thought it was a joke. Or maybe an empty journal."

"Well it seems to me that you have to be a mage to be able to make out the contents. This might go further and be tied to race. Where's another elf mage when you need one" muttered Galion.

"Irving, Wynne, have you ever seen anything similar?" asked Alistair.

Irving shook his head. "This is some sort of obfuscation ward across the whole book I would say. The normal spells we use for secret documents don't come close to this level of sophistication."

Wynne put her finger to her lips, thinking. "I haven't seen anything like this either, Alistair. Although, it does remind me a little of how a rogue hides himself. They're still there, but they bend vision around them."

Galion brightened up at this. "Alistair, I have an idea. Can you make sure that any Templars don't interrupt me, I'm going to channel a spell. Irving and Wynne, see if this helps."

Galion cleared his thoughts and began to chant in elvish, holding his palms about a handspan apart. Arcs of yellowish white lightning began to appear between his palms, before clumping into a sphere which filled the space between his palms. As the chant continued, Galion's ball of light enveloped both of his hands and the whole room was suffused with a pleasant light yellow glow, similar to a morning sunbeam.

Irving and Wynne studied the book and both gasped as the text solidified. Illuminated lettering appeared in rich red and blue colours, filigreed in gold and black. Irving motioned to Galion that it was working. Galion slowed down his chant and the light faded. Wynne and Irving continued to study the pages open in front of them, noting that as the light faded, the text on the pages remained visible.

Galion said "that was a true-seeing spell from this book which is used to reveal hidden things. I think it was intended to be used against rogues and the like. What can you see?"

"There's an illuminated panel along this margin, and another one on this page here" said Wynne.

"The text is elvish and on this page it seems to be a list. First letters are red in the list" added Irving.

"That is what I can see too. What you have here is a list of elven families which goes on for another page or so. It says here on the previous page that these families had high ranking druidic members and contributed to the building of a temple, umm... somewhere by the coast. It doesn't sound familiar to me, the names have changed over time I guess."

Alistair had joined the mages at the table, looking with interest. "Galion, I can see some sort of blobs on the pages now. They swim around when I try to focus on them".

Galion looked at his friend with interest. "That's strange, Alistair. Perhaps the spell I cast is helping you to see what Wynne and Irving see normally."

"That makes sense" said Alistair. "How long will this last?" he asked.

Galion reached over and turned the page. Irving and Wynne both sighed as the next page was back to its' confused state for them. Looking up, Galion thought. He turned the page back to the one they were looking at a few seconds earlier.

"No - it's gone back to the way it was before you cast the spell" said Irving.

"Blank again" added Alistair.

Galion sighed and sat down. He looked over at Alistair. "Well here's the word of two Senior mages, Alistair. What do you think about my _homework_ now?"

Alistair pondered this but it was Irving who spoke. "Young man, you have a great opportunity here. If you are able to come back here to translate and transcribe this text, many people could benefit from the magics of your ancient people."

Galion looked over at Irving, studying the old man carefully. "I have been translating it as I go, but so far the transcription only exists up here" he said, tapping his forehead. "If... when... we defeat this blight, I will see about making copies. They may find their way here, but be under no illusion that I am Dalish. I have responsibilities to my people and clan first." That was as polite a way that Galion could think of to refuse Irving's fairly clumsy attempt to get Galion to stay at the circle. He would throw Irving a bone in order to get the mages to help against the blight. He wouldn't willingly hand over one of the precious few examples of his magical heritage that remained unspoilt by shemlen interference. Galion had read far enough into the book to know that some of the higher order spells would be abused no matter what guarantees he obtained from the mages.

Galion stood up again and retrieved his book from the First Enchanter's desk. With a smile and a handshake, Galion said goodbye to Irving. "We should be leaving to make the most of the day. Thanks for your help, Irving" said Galion. "_I also need to get out of here before you notice that empty space in your chest over there, where Morrigan's book was" _ he thought. Alistair and Wynne followed along as they travelled downstairs and out of the tower to the ferry. The hour or so to cross to shore gave Galion some time to think about where they needed to head next.

-oo-

While his companions slept in the ferryboat, Galion looked over to see Alistair staring at the water. He tapped his arm, and asked "Alistair, when we were in the Beyond – you..."

Alistair raised one eyebrow and looked at his elven companion.

"Do you have a sister?" asked the elf.

Alistair sighed. "Yes, in Denerim. Her name is Goldanna, and I really don't know much more than that. She lives in the Market District, I think."

"Have you tried to contact her?"

"Not really. I thought about it when I was training with the Templars, but there was never really an opportunity to see her."

"We'll be in Denerim sooner or later, we could make some time to find her if you want" suggested Galion.

"I... actually, I'd like that. With the Blight coming, I'd like to at least warn her."

Galion nodded quietly. His tribe would already be heading north, and may even be crossing the Waking Sea by now. The plan was always to go to the Free Marches.

"What about you, Galion? Do you have family that you would want to see?" asked Alistair.

Galion thought for a minute, then said "not really. My tribe has moved on, and we will see other Dalish soon enough. My clan is here now, I suppose."

Alistair nodded, and grasped the elf's shoulder briefly. "We're doing alright, Galion. Not bad at all."


	8. The Road to Honnleath

_A/N: This scene is set a few days after the Mage Tower has been cleared, but before the group reaches Honnleath. Galion has worked out how to utilise the major spells in his tome, and explains this to his comrades._

-ooOOoo-

_**Chapter 8**_

_**The Road to Honnleath**_

-ooOOoo-

Galion looked across the campsite. All seemed quiet this evening, as his companions settled into their evening routines. Sten and Leliana were taking the first watch. Alistair had shed his armour and was cleaning one of the pauldrons which he'd straightened back into shape. Baran was rolling around and being tickled by Sandal, while Bodahn was chopping up some sticks for the fire. That Levi Dryden trader had left for Denerim earlier that morning, promising to catch up with the group before they visited Soldier's Peak. Wynne was sitting on a log, reading by the fire, a gentle white light emanating from her staff, courtesy of Galion's magic. Galion walked over to the fire and collected a bowl of hot water from the fire. He added some more of his tea and peppermint mixture and swirled it around in the bowl, enjoying the refreshing scent. "How's the shoulder, Alistair?" asked Galion.

"Much better, thanks. Not even a scar!" Alistair replied.

Looking at his elven friend, Alistair noticed that he appeared somewhat distracted this evening. "Something on your mind, Galion? You've been a bit quiet lately."

Galion pondered for a minute before answering. "You know that book I have been studying. What do you call it - my 'homework'?"

Alistair nodded, looking up while smearing some more cleaning compund onto his pauldron. Wynne paused in her reading, putting a leaf in the pages as a bookmark while looking over at the elf.

"Well, you know I have been translating the contents, and that they're very ancient magic. I've been able to get a good grasp of the minor canticles so far" he said, taking another whiff of his tea. "The major canticles, the really useful spells... well they're not something you just pick up by reading them."

Wynne interrupted "but that's normal, Galion. You learn the basics and use those to work your way up to the more powerful spells."

"Normally I would agree with you, Wynne. But we're not talking about jumping from a snowball spell to a blizzard. These spells are very varied." While speaking, Galion decanted a cup of tea, offering it to Wynne. She accepted with a smile. Alistair had tried it before and didn't care for the tea.

"I'm not going to repeat this, I want to hear what Morrigan has to say. I'll just fetch her" said Galion. With that he turned and walked over to Morrigan's smaller campfire.

"Something must have him rattled if he wants _her_ over here" said Alistair.

"Let's find out what we can, Alistair. Remember that both Morrigan and I have agreed that his book is genuine. You've seen the spells he's gleaned from it, we just need to work out what he wants" said Wynne.

-oo-

"Morrigan?" said Galion, not wanting to startle the mage, as she had taken to reading from her Mother's spellbook, which Galion had returned to her a few days ago.

"Good evening, Warden" replied the witch, turning around to watch the elf approach with her eerie amber eyes. Morrigan and Galion had developed a strong respect for each other, their magic often complementing each others' in combat. Morrigan had been shot in the calf with an arrow early in their travels, and Galion had cured the injury leaving no trace of it ever happening. She had no scar, no stiffness or even bruising. Galion for his part enjoyed the presence of Morrigan, feeling that she was a fellow outsider in this strange human landscape.

"Morrigan, I was hoping you could come and join in a discussion with us at the other fire."

"Well that depends, doesn't it? What is the nature of your discussion?" she asked.

"I've shown you the translations of the elven spellbook - its' related to that."

Morrigan's eyes widened. "Oh? Have you found out how to use the higher spells?"

Galion nodded. He and Morrigan had discussed the book at length on a few of their watch nights. "I know what to do and what I need, but I just wanted to find out what you and Wynne thought about it."

Morrigan grinned and said "of course, Warden. Lead on".

_"That was easy"_ thought Galion.

The mages returned to the main fire and found a log to sit on. Galion decanted another two cups of tea, passing one to Morrigan before sitting beside her and taking a breath of the steam. After taking a sip, he began.

"Where to start" said Galion.

"Can I suggest the beginning?" teased Morrigan.

Galion smirked and said "Good idea. The spells in the book are part of a set of four. This is the second book, and it details the rites and passages of the Elven Druids at a time before Arlathan fell. This was long, long time ago, before the Chantry even existed. The pages itself are magic, and as some of you know, only an elf can actually even see the text unaided. Wynne and Morrigan can see the text when I cast a light spell close by. I have been translating as much as I can, and even transcribing some but it is a long process. We have a chance to use the core spells of the druidic school to help against the blight."

Galion noticed he had the rapt attention of all his companions. Even Baran had finished playing with Sandal and was now lying down watching him, close to the fire. Leliana and Sten had moved within sight of the fire, and were watching. The qunari had an inscrutable look on his face, and the bard's eyes were shining. Leliana loved a good story, and this looked promising. Galion cleared his throat and began.

-oo-

Many years ago, the elvhen peoples lived in solitude amongst the wild creatures of Arlathan. This was the noon tide of the elvhen, the peak of their prosperity. Life was long and for the most part, carefree. Elves enjoyed the benefits of immortality, spending many years in crafting wondrous halls from living rock and plants. The rulers of the elves, a council of their wisest hahren, guided the people and gently steered the course of the race.

The creators of the elvhen were pleased by their peoples' offerings, which came in good time and measure. One of the pantheon, however, was disheartened as he seldom had offerings on the grand scale as his peers. This was Falon'din, the guide of the Dead.

Falon'din voiced his lament to Elgar'nan, who spoke, saying "this counsel I offer thee, friend of the dead. Mishap and mayhem can cause more of the children to enter your ranks, but know that we stewards of the elvhen have spent many ages in crafting thus, and would not see it brought undone for the vanity of one of us."

Falon'din was wroth but masked his face, making it impassive. Taking his leave of Elgar'nan, he went north to the white peak which overlooked the sea, and dwelt there for many months. In this time his only friend and counsel was Fen'harel, the dread wolf. It came to pass that during one of his stays with Falon'din, Fen'harel was followed at a distance by Anaris, the god of pestilence, who heard their speech and thought : "such injustice I can not conscience. Falon'din has had his appetite whetted for too long, while his fellows grow fat and lazy. I will surprise him, and his favour will bring me into the pantheon". And with that, Anaris devised a cunning plague with which to break the elvhen people and bring souls to Falon'din. He set loose the pestilence on a full moon, and his plague came to be known as the lunar curse.

Such a spontaneous burst of suffering soon became a torrent of death. The creators could not rest as all they could hear was the wailing of the people. The hahrens cried aloud "what have we done to deserve this? We have obeyed thee in all things". The wailing became a mourning, and the mourners turned to anger, and the anger was directed at the creators. Soon none of the elvhen worshipped any of the creators, and strife was commonplace.

Elgar'nan summoned Falon'din, and he was violent to the friend of the dead. But Falon'din was made strong by the number of dead, and Elgar'nan could not make him cower. Falon'din knew that this pestilence as not of his making, and he spoke to Elgar'nan : "this evil is not of my hand. For the last months I have been at the white mountain, and only Fen'harel has seen me".

Elgar'nan knew that Fen'harel walked both sides of the line drawn against the pantheon, and that Anaris, the god of pestilence, could have followed him. He frowned and told Falon'din, who said "then it is over. Only the elvhen can harm one of the Pantheon, and they are too soft."

(At this point, Sten nodded sombrely, muttering at how little has changed.)

But Elgar'nan grinned and said "not all. Look, this youth, if aided by each of us, could restore what we have known". Falon'din looked to where Elgar'nan was pointing, and saw the elvhen youth who was named Tarak, which is protector in the ancient language. "He is aptly named" said Falon'din. The youth was tall and strong, and was a cunning hunter. Elgar'nan appeared to the youth as he slumbered, and offered him a challenge - to defeat Anaris, the god of Pestilence. He would need to travel to the white mountain and there he would be trained by the very creators themselves.

When the youth woke, he found a suit of armour and a fine longbow with quiver there. The armour would make the wearer silent as the grave, and resist the cold of the mountains. The longbow was very light to draw, but fired arrows which could pierce stone, and the quiver never emptied.

Tarak took his gifts and journeyed for a year to the northeast, finally reaching the mountain. During his journey, Sylaise and Andruil schooled him in the art of healing and herbs, and the skill of the hunt. Falon'din met him at the base of the mount, and while they ascended, he guided him in the use of shadows, and taught him how to fade from sight. When he reached the peak, he beheld Elgar'nan, who was cloaked in sunlight. Tarak's eyes were bathed in radiance, and they became white. Elgar'nan and Mythal trained him for nine years, and he learned much, and quickly. He mastered many forms of magic, and soon the time came for him to challenge Anaris. Ten years of pestilence had hurt the elvhen people greatly, and Anaris was gleeful and haughty. When Tarak challenged him, he laughed "what sport is this? Some mere elvhen come to put me in my place? You will learn your own place, creature!" But Tarak did not budge, and Anaris tried to cripple his challenger with magic. Tarak made a fresh breeze heave across the mountaintop, and the pestilent cloud was blown aside. They fought with both magic and weapons. Arrow and mace and sword all echoed across the defile where they clashed. In the end Tarak had wrought four great wounds on Anaris, and had suffered nothing save small scratches. Anaris crashed to his knees, and cried "enough! Enough! You have the victory you sought, elf. I will take my plague and begone". Tarak was pleased, and did say "that is not enough. I also would have your knowledge of poisons and the like, to prevent this malady from happening again".

Anaris did submit, and relayed all that he knew of toxins and their crafting. He removed the lunar curse which he had put on the people, but he did in in such a way that only when Tarak was present did it truly vanish. The creators were pleased, and many did grin as the elvhen people recovered from the pestilence. Elgar'nan instructed Tarak with the writing of blood, and gave the markings for the creators to him. It came to be that when Tarak did stop at a place, he would instruct the people in the markings, and they would turn back to worship. The vallaslin was taken up as a testament of faith.

Tarak served his people for many years to come, and took on students to share what he had learned from the creators. They in turn shared the knowledge and it spread quickly. Tarak wrote four great tomes which were the sum of his learning, as well as tales to share and lessons to observe. Anaris was banished beyond the veil soon after, and has become one of the forgotten ones - those beings who sought to undo all that the creators wrought.

-oo-

"So it was that Tarak became the forefather of the Druids in Arlathan, and they guided the Elvhen with a benevolent hand for many centuries, aided by the four tomes which he wrote." Galion continued "the first book in the set is concerned with shape shifting." Here he looked over at Morrigan, who raised her eyebrows in surprise. "As I said before, this is the second book. The third book is about offensive abilities. My light spells may be a sub set of those. The final book is a set of poems and stories as well as druid power words which allow the wielder control over a target."

"That sounds like blood magic to me" commented Alistair.

"Hush, Alistair" said Wynne and Morrigan, clearly interested in the elf's findings.

"It does sound like it, but remember that this was written before the Tevinter Imperium was even a shemlen hovel on an elven crossroads. The point is moot without the fourth book anyway, so let's not waste time on petty labels."

Alistair nodded as Galion took another mouthful of tea.

"Galion, is this one of the original books, or a copy?" asked Wynne.

"It's difficult to say, Wynne. My guess is it's a copy, but still very old. It may have been transcribed directly from the original book, as all the text is in the same hand" replied Galion, before continuing, "the book I have contains the utility spells. The minor canticles are straightforward enough, and you've seen some of them already. The druids used these spells for subterfuge, defense, healing and limited attack. The major canticles can't be cast by a human. I've found that in order to be able to cast them, I will need some... assistance."

"What sort of assistance?" asked Wynne.

Morrigan looked at the elf curiously. "Tis a charm of some sort? A ward, perhaps?" she asked.

"Nothing so simple, I believe. The druids could have had a charm stolen, or cut off. A ward on the ground is close, but they really wanted to make sure that only an elf was able to cast these spells."

"It's the markings, isn't it? your tattoos?" piped up Leliana.

Galion nodded. He stood up and opened up his tunic, removing it. Morrigan smiled, having the closest view of the slight but well-built elf. Leliana reddened a little, and even Wynne appeared a bit flushed. His companions were able to see the vallaslin across his torso. He had added a new one the day before, an ancient pattern of concentric rings, surrounded by elven text with a pair of glyphs in the centre. "This here" he pointed at the central tattoo over his heart "allows me to cast one of the major spells. It has an interesting side effect - watch." Galion began to chant quietly in elvish, and as he did the tattoo took on a bluish glow. As he continued, the glow intensified, and his skin appeared to crystallise and take on a stone like appearance. This faded somewhat, but the blue glow remained on the tattoo. "This is stone skin" said Galion. His voice sounded distant, almost muffled. To Alistair it reminded him of what it sounds like when you are underwater and someone is calling out your name. Galion reached over to the fire and pulled out a log about as thick as his arm, grabbing it where it was on fire.

"Galion, no!" yelled Leliana and Wynne. Morrigan grabbed his other arm, but he merely stood up again, holding the flaming, hot coal encrusted log calmly. "I can feel the fire, but the spell is protecting me. Notice the vallaslin - see how it glows more intensely?" He snapped the log in half and chucked both pieces back into the fire. Morrigan let go of Galion, her wonder apparent. Even Sten appeared surprised, that flaming log was as thick as his forearm.

Galion cancelled the spell and put his hand up in front of Morrigan. She delicately held his wrist and fingertips, as if inspecting a joint of meat. She flipped his hand over a couple of times, before running her fingertips across the back of his hand. "Nothing - no marks, no burns or blisters. His hand doesn't even feel hot" she said to the others.

"So that tattoo allowed you to cast that spell?" said Alistair.

"Yes. This tattoo I was able to do myself" he said, gesturing at his chest. "In order to cast the other spells I will need two more vallaslin. Here" he said, indicating his forehead "and here" he reached his arm over his shoulder and pointed at the centre of his back between his shoulder blades.

"One of us would have to do it" said Wynne "you can't see your forehead and you can't reach your back".

"What is the ink made of, Galion?" asked Morrigan.

_'She hardly ever uses my name!' _Galion thought. "Lyrium dust, wolf blood, rainwater, plus a couple of other herbs" he said. "Would either of you be willing to copy the two vallaslin onto me? It must be a mage because of the Lyrium involved" he asked.

"I would be willing to, if you wished, Warden" said Wynne.

"As would I" added Morrigan.

Galion pulled his tunic back on and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a coin. "If this lands griffon side up then Wynne can do it. If it lands vines side up, then Morrigan. Agreed?"

Both mages nodded their heads, each hoping for their own side to land facing up.

Galion flipped the coin and let it fall to the ground. _Vines_. Galion looked at Morrigan. "As you wish warden, once you prepare the ingredients and show me the art, I will mark your other vallaslin" she said, with a grin.

Galion retrieved the coin.

-oo-

The group separated not long afterwards, Morrigan returning to her fire. Sten continued the watch, and Wynne and Alistair retired to their tents. Leliana caught Galion's attention, and he beckoned her over. She sat beside the elf in the position Morrigan had left a few minutes earlier. "That was an interesting story, Galion. Some day when we have time to spare, could you tell it to me again? I would like to record it in ink, you see" she said.

Galion grinned, he liked the talkative bard. "Of course, Leliana. I'm not much of a story teller, but you can help me with writing down the tale in a manner suitable for the bards".

Leliana smiled at the elf, looking at his facial tattoos carefully.

"What are you looking at, Leliana?"

"I'm trying to memorise what you look like before you get more of those tattoos" she replied.

"I see" replied the elf, looking at the bard's blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare. I'd best get back to the watch with Sten" said the bard, lightly gripping Galion's shoulder, before standing up and moving soundlessly off to the outer perimeter of the camp.

Galion looked at the fire for a while before walking over to Morrigan's smaller campfire. Morrigan was warming her back, so she saw the elf approach. "You are very trusting with me, Warden, to let me mark your skin so" she said, as he moved alongside her.

"Well I know how you enjoy needling people" said Galion.

Morrigan laughed, a rich heady sound.

"We still have to collect some of the ingredients, but once we have them, I'll show you what to do".

"So you _do_ trust me?" she asked.

"Of course I do, Morrigan. I know you won't make a mistake".

A short silence followed, broken occasionally by an owl hooting.

"I am about to sleep, Warden. If there is nothing else...?" asked Morrigan.

Galion yawned and said "no, sleep well, Morrigan."

He walked back to the main fire, but stopped and turned a couple of paces from Morrigan. The witch was looking at him still. He reached into his pocket and drew out an object. Casting a short light spell on it so that it would glow, he tossed it towards Morrigan, saying "catch!"

Morrigan caught the object cleanly in her hands. She looked at it closely. A coin, vines on one side. She flipped it over. _Vines_. She smiled and looked back up towards the Warden, but Galion had gone. Morrigan turned and went into her tent, thinking about the elf and wondering how she could extend their exercise a little further.

-ooOOoo-

_A/N: Since the original draft of this chapter in July 2010, Dragon Age 2 has been released, and with it an elf character called Fenris, who has lyrium based tattoos. I'd just like to point out that I'm not nicking that idea from Mr Gaider, it's just an example of parallel evolution in a storyline. Readers of the original version of my story would have been aware of this._


End file.
